Wednesday, August 16, 2017

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)

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Who is a sannyasi?




A Sannyasi
A favorite of magazine covers and documentaries, nothing presents a more exotic and mysterious picture of Hinduism than that of the sannyasi. Traditionally revered in Hinduism, and sometimes derided by detractors, these wandering holy men have been part of the Indian landscape since ancient times. Indeed, tales of sannyasis retiring to the forest in search of enlightenment is a staple of the civilization. By the time of Buddha, two thousand six hundred years ago, the tradition of sannyasa had already long existed. In fact, before his enlightenment, the Buddha spent years travelling with a group of sannyasis, practising austerities, who then became his first disciples.

In Hinduism, four stages of life are described: bramacharya, grihastha, vanaprastha and sannyasa. A bramachari is a celibate student, whose duty is to learn from his teacher, his guru; a grihastha is a householder, whose duties include raising a family and engaging in civic duties; vanaprastha is the retired stage of life, and finally, a sannayasi is someone, who having performed all worldly duties, renounces all for the pursuit of spiritual wisdom. In practical terms however, many young men (and women) take sannyasa.

Thus a sannyasi is not a priest, which is profession, but a natural stage of life. It is the result of a deep commitment, involving no salary nor benefits, and a product of a personal search for the truth. Yet, despite their abandonment of societal responsibilities, the orders of sannyasa have built up significant traditions over the years. While many sannyasis are free of any association and follow their own path, many more coalesce into orders, attracted by the teachings of the leaders.

The Buddha created an order of sannyasis, which he called the Sangha. These monks (in western terms) dedicate their lives to understanding the teachings (the Dharma) and expounding it to others.
Shankaracharya
One of the great organizers of sannyasa in Hinduism was the great 8th century saint Shankar-acharya. Born in South India, he travelled across the land, expounding his philosophy, establishing temples and orders of sannyasis, which have great influence to this day.

He founded two types of sannaysis; one called the astra-dhara (the carrier of weapons), and the other the shastra-dhara (the carrier of scriptures.) The astra-dhara, the warrior sannyasis, were meant to protect Hindu temples, which were being regularly attacked by invaders. They were structured around mahants (leaders) and their orders are called akharas, which literally means the circle within which martial arts are practised.

The shastra-dhara sannyasis established mathas, whose closest English translation would be monasteries. There, they studied scripture, specifically those that expounded the monistic teachings of their founder. These sannaysis became known as the dasnami (ten-name) sannyasis, so-called because upon entrance to the order, initiates are awarded one of ten names (such as Puri, Bharati and Giri.)

The Sringeri Matha, established by Shankaracharya


Sannaysis are still found in India, though in much reduced numbers. The main reason for the decline is the minimization of traditional spiritual education in India, where western education is seen as a gateway to the best paying jobs. In the transition to a materialistic culture, and away from a spiritual one, many of the ancient traditions are diminished.








Mohan Ashtakala is the author of The Yoga Zapper (www.yogazapper.com) published by Books We Love (www.bookswelove.net)

Monday, August 14, 2017

VINTAGE...NOT OLD...by Sheila Claydon


I am in the middle of re-editing several books that I wrote in the 1980s. They are being re-published as Vintage Romance, and that word vintage got me thinking about how my writing life has changed since they were first published.

In those early days I produced a top copy and a carbon copy on a portable manual typewriter, and both copies were stored in box files until I typed The End on the final page and sent the top copy off to a publisher with a covering letter. To get them even looked at instead of ending up on a junior editor's slush pile, writers had to do their homework. Woe betide any hopeful author who didn't produce a manuscript to each publisher's exact specification. I remember having to send 200+ single-sided, double-spaced pages to one publisher (no more than 10 chapters, one inch margins all round, each page numbered  centre bottom and with name and title at the top).  The pages then had to be boxed and secured with an elastic band, and I had to include a stamped addressed envelope for the reply; a reply which would probably not arrive for months.

When, after quite a lot of rejection letters, I was finally invited to meet an editor to discuss one of my manuscripts with a view to publication, I was beside myself with excitement. The editor was positive and her suggestions helpful. I left the meeting walking on air and spent the next few weeks revising and re-writing, sure that it was only a matter of time before I took the publishing world by storm. Pride, of course, always comes before a fall, and what a fall it was. The revised manuscript received a very swift rejection. I don't remember the exact words of the letter except that it said my editor had now left the publishing company and her successor did not feel my manuscript was a fit.

That was quite possibly the worst day of my writing life but I eventually followed the advice in Jerome Kern's song and picked myself up, dusted myself off and started all over again. After all I had a completed manuscript that needed a home. It eventually found one I'm glad to say and a long life too. Initially published in 1983, and then again in 2012, it will soon go to a 3rd edition when it is re-published in digital and paperback by Books We Love in 2018. In the meantime two of its contemporaries have already been republished: The Hollywood Collection and Bouquet of Thorns. 

Re-reading and editing all those early books has been a more enjoyable experience than I anticipated because they have stood the test of time surprisingly well. I also found myself remembering where the stories had come from and what had prompted me to write them. The Hollywood Collection for example was triggered by a magazine article about a handsome and up-and-coming young British dress designer. To research it, however, required a lot more graft than nowadays. With no Internet it was libraries, newspapers and magazines.  Also I had never been to Hollywood.  Nowadays I only write about places I know, but then I was much more cavalier. Ah, the arrogant confidence of youth.

Reading those books again definitely brought back memories of that time before I also became vintage!

You can find details of all Sheila's books on the following sites:





Sunday, August 13, 2017

Who Would Play My Characters in the Movie by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey



http://bookswelove.net/authors/donaldson-yarmey-joan/

Total Speculation and dreaming--but wouldn't it be wonderful if a production company decided they wanted to make my historical novel, Romancing the Klondike, into a movie. When I thought about who would play my characters I went with all Canadian actors and actresses.
Here is the list:
Ellen Page as Pearl Owens
Rachael McAdams as Emma Owens
Ryan Reynolds as Sam Owens
Ryan Gosling as Donald Miller
Seth Rogen as Gordon Baker
Keanu Reeves as Joe Ladue
Jane Eastwood as Mrs. Wills

I think that the lesser characters should also be Canadian actors and actresses. After all, this is a Canadian story.

What do you think of my selections?

Saturday, August 12, 2017

When Words Collide


For more information about Susan Calder's books, or to purchase please visit her Books We Love Author Page.

This is a big weekend for book lovers in Calgary -- When Words Collide Festival for Readers and Writers. I am currently dashing from panel to presentation, trying to pack in as much as I can. 

Is that me on a WWC panel -- third person from the left?

I've attended WWC every August since it began six years ago; the brainchild of our local imaginative fiction authors who felt their annual convention wasn't offering enough for writers interested in craft and promotion. I didn't expect much from this new event and mainly attended as a fan of science fiction writer Robert J. Sawyer, one of that year's five special guest authors.

WWC poster 2011
Since I had a new book to promote, I volunteered to conduct a workshop on Writing Dialogue. I was astonished to see the people pour in; they had to turn away some at the door. In the Merchants' Room, I did a shift at the shared author table and sold all the copies of my novel I'd brought. Other highlights for me were the keynote addresses, where each guest author spoke for 20 minutes on whatever subject he wanted, and a coffee klatch with Robert Sawyer and a dozen other fans seated around a table. This opportunity for a personal contact between writers and readers is one appeal of the festival.    

Overall, I was surprised by how much I learned at the panels and presentations, even though imaginative fiction isn't my genre. Fortunately, I'm a fan of the original Star Trek series and was able to catch the numerous references to Spock and the gang.



Most of all, I was impressed by the festival's energy. Science Fiction and Fantasy types know how to host a fun event. Showing up in costume is acceptable, if not encouraged.        

Since that first year, WWC has grown to 750 attendees and typically sells out two months ahead.  Most who come are local Calgarians, although many travel from other Canadian and US locations. They find the festival price of $45-60 (depending on when you register) a steal for three full days of programming, with 12 choices of panels, presentations, blue pencil cafes, pitch sessions and more per hour.

WWC brings in some literary stars in their genre. A couple of years ago, Diana Gabaldon, author of the Outlander series, lit up every room she entered.  


 

At the same time, anyone can be a presenter. All you have to do is suggest a topic or put your name in for a panel. No one is paid -- the stars are reimbursed their expenses -- but always more people than they need offer to present for the promotion and experience.

Me on a WWC panel

With another new book out, I'm focused on panelling this year. Somehow, I've wound up on six panels, four in the mystery genre and two others titled Fragility & Mental Illness Within Story and Beyond Traditional and Self-Publishing. I'm also doing a shift at the Books We Love table in the Merchants' Room and attending the Saturday evening banquet and Mass Autograph session. This year's banquet theme is the roaring twenties.      

Me in flapper costume

Last year, I only presented at two WWC panels to keep my time free for attending other sessions and activities. In the Merchants' Room, at the Steampunk party and at a panel on Mature Sleuths, I heard good things about Books We Love, a local publisher of genre fiction. After the festival, I sent BWL a query. Less than two weeks later I signed a contract.

Are writers' festivals, and especially When Words Collide, worth attending? You bet!

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