Even Bad Days are Good Days by Nancy M Bell

photo credit: CBC

As some of you may know Fort McMurray, Alberta is on fire. While the fire has passed the city now, new evacuations to the north were ordered May 17th, 2016. I have been helping with the relief efforts through the animal shelter I volunteer at. Last Sunday we held an open house for Ft Mac evacuees who needed food and supplies for their animals. It was both sad and wonderful at the same time. Some of the people have lost their homes and everything in them, as well as their jobs. Many business are destroyed and now the fire, nicknamed The Beast, is bearing down on the work camps north of town where 4,000 workers who have just returned to work this week were evacuated today. The effects are far reaching and not just financial.
The uncertainty and sheer terror of fleeing the fire has marked every one involved. Even those of us on the outskirts are feeling the stress. I can only imagine how those who are displaced and living in temporary housing, with friends or camping out in RVs must be feeling. But through it all our resilience shines through. We keep on keeping on and doing what needs to be done.

This experience coupled with the experience I went through this past winter when my oldest son (36 years old) spend eight weeks in intensive care with us being told not to expect him to leave the unit alive has brought home to me the realization that we never know what the next day might bring. The last thing I expected on Christmas Eve was to hear my son was in ICU on life support, my husband was on a plane to Winnipeg and my youngest son was driving across three provinces to be with his brother. I stayed home to arrange care for the animals. Christmas Day I spent alone with the critters in a flood of tears. The bright spot was my ex-daughter-in-law kindly invited me to her house for a few hours in the afternoon. In the midst of tragedy we find kindness. I caught a plane at 5am on Boxing Day to be with him.

During the long days and nights spent at the hospital with my daughter-in-law at his bedside not knowing if he would wake up and if he did would he know who we were was hard. But when faced with the possibility that what he suffered from had no cure and we would be faced with watching him fade away from us made still having him there a blessing. No matter how awful things got and how scary and uncertain things were, the fact he was still with us was something to hang onto. Those bad days were good days. I know it was unrealistic but I refused to let myself believe that he wouldn't get well. On the white board in his room I wrote across the top on one of the darkest days "He is getting better" I wrote his full name, but I won't use that here. At that point we had no idea what was wrong, but they were throwing around things like prion disease, Crutchfield-Jacobs Disease, and a few others I've forgotten. All with no treatment and no cure. Even when he lost the ability to speak and then to swallow, those were good days because he was still with us and there was still hope. New Years Eve passed without me hardly realizing it happened. Late on January 11 the resident came into the room and gave us a miracle. They had a diagnosis, he had a rare form of encephalitis, but it was treatable. The day started out badly, it was his birthday and it was hard to see him lying there on a ventilator, drugged to the gills, but it was a good day because we finally knew what was wrong and it was treatable. Even bad days are good days.

So too with the evacuees, they are still alive, they have their families, most of them have their pets, although some are still in the rescue centres as they search for the owners, the vast majority were saved. Yes, these are hard days, bad days, and there are more to come once the crisis is passed. There is a ton of rebuilding to do in the Mac, and a ton of healing for the community. Some will leave and return home, some will return to Fort McMurray and start again. The good we have to hold onto in these bad days is we will rebuild and Fort Mac will rise again. All of Alberta is behind them and the support and help won't go away once the news crews pack up and the fire moves on and all that is left is to shift through the ashes and start anew. There's a lot of Maritimers living and working in Fort Mac and they stand with us as well. We are Alberta Strong. #albertastrong There are good days ahead.


On a different note:

I have a new release in the Arabella's Secret series. The second book is Arabella Dreams and picks up her story after she leaves Cornwall at the end of The Selkie's Song and makes her new life in southern Alberta. It's available on Amazon, Kobo and wherever good books are sold. Available in print and ebook.

Arabella Angarrick is heartbroken. Exiled from her beloved Cornwall, she must come to terms with life on the Canadian prairies and her arranged marriage to D’Arcy Rowan. She struggles to reconcile herself to life on a remote ranch with a man she barely knows. He knows he’s getting a two for one deal and Bella is thankful he is happy to welcome her unborn child into his home. D’Arcy is a kind man, but try as she might, Bella just can’t bring herself to love him. Her heart still yearns for Vear Du, the father of her baby. Will she ever stop dreaming of him?

Looking at Critique Groups - Janet Lane Walters

In many ways, writing is a lonely game. The people you meet are often those you've created on paper. Telling stories that are produced on paper or electronically takes time and being alone. Trying to write when surrounded by people carrying on conversations can be difficult if not impossible but writing in a vacuum is also difficult. One needs feedback from others. Just sending off a story and waiting for an editor to comment can be hard. So what can you do?

Writers often band together with other writers to share their works and receive comments from their fellow writers to help. But critique groups may not always work for one author or another. I've belonged to three in my long career as a writer. The first one was centered only in poetry and while I learned there things like rhythm and word choice there was no appreciation of my prose. Since it was the only group in town, I remained and my fellow writers at least were supportive of what I was doing but they didn't help me hone my craft. Then we moved.

I joined a second critique group who said they were interested in both poetry and prose. Problem was they were interested in intellectual prose. I wrote genre fiction, stories with happy endings. My characters had goals and motives and coflicts that could happen to writers in every day life. Did I learn here. Yes and no. I learned I was never going to write "literary" fiction, but some of the authors the quoted as being wonderful didn't write "literary" fiction in the days when they were producing. I also had fun. Doing poetry readings in NYC and meeting people whose poetry was recognized was a great experience. I also had some poems published. My fiction suffered in some ways and grew stronger in others.

Then I found a third critique group. While the writers were mainly focused on romance they could give pointers on some of the other areas I was exploring. The group formed in 1990 has continued and is still active today. Actually we meet at my house and read from five to ten pages and do a round robin critique. Not all the original members still belong. Some of them have gone on to become best-selling authors. Some have moved and some have dropped out of the writing game. I always wonder about the strong writers who simply gave up. Was it something the group was not giving them or was it a fear of faila fear of success. Through this group I discovered electronic publishing years before it became the boom it is now. And I think a lot about those people who left the writing game. But each time one of the members or former member's career takes off I feel inspired and wonder if somehow I have helped them move forward in their careers the way they have helped me.



Seducing the doctor is a new release. Pursuing Dr. West, Gemstones and Healwoman are on sale for another few days. Escape is also on sale.

Books We Love's Tantalizing Talent ~ Author Gail Roughton

Gail Roughton is a native of small town Georgia whose Deep South heritage features prominently in most of her work.  A retired paralegal as of 2016, she worked in a law office for over forty years, during which time she raised three children and quite a few attorneys. She kept herself more or less sane by writing novels and tossing the completed manuscripts into her closet. A cross-genre writer, Gail’s produced works ranging from humor to romance to thriller to horror, sometimes in the same book.  When she’s not writing, she’s busy spoiling her grandchildren, enjoying her family and giving thanks for retirement.

Gail Roughton Books published by Books We Love

Vanished

my name be Cain..and my color be Se’ben

Country Justice  (Southern Justice, Book 1)

Sisters of Prophecy – Ursula (Co-written with Jude Pittman)

War-N-Wit, Inc.: The Novellas

The Witch - Book 1

Resurrection - Book 2

The Coven - Book 3

MeanStreet, LLC - Book 4

(All four novellas available together as a Boxed Set)

Country Justice – Southern Justice – Book 1

Amazon

What goes around comes around. That’s justice. Especially in small towns where everybody knows how many eggs you ate for breakfast before you've even left the Scales of Justice Café. Funny thing, though. Usually what everybody thinks they know—they really don’t. Take the folks in Turkey Creek. Oh, everybody knows Maggie Kincaid doesn’t speak to her father. They think they know why. But they don’t. They know Billy Brayton died twenty-five years back. Too bad nobody told him. Because now he’s home. And it’s time to right some past wrongs. Time for justice. Country Justice. 

War-N-Wit, Inc.

Amazon

Paralegal extraordinaire Ariel Anson’s life wasn’t going at all the way she planned. Not after private investigator Chad Garrett of War-N-Wit, Inc. roared into her life in response to her urgent call for a skip-trace. Instead of settling down with her steady CPA fiancé, Ariel’s swept into another life entirely. How could she know War-N-Wit stood for Warlock and Witch? Or that Chad Garrett was a warlock in search of his eternal soulmate, the witch he’d reincarnated with through many lifetimes? The witch he insisted was – her! From Vegas to Savannah to Daytona Bike Week and back to Vegas, this series takes the characters on some out-of-this-world adventures! 

my name be Cain…and my color be Se’ben

Amazon

Deep in the woods that slide off into Stone Creek Swamp, teenage drug dealers retrieve their stash and receive an unexpected dividend—the unwitting resurrection of Cain, powerful Bokor of Black Magic. Atop Coleman Hill, two young attorneys renovate a decrepit relic of a house for their home and office. A house with a past it wants to share, showing Ria Knight tantalizing scenes of its original owner, Dr. Paul Devlin. Dr. Devlin’s not exactly alive and well, but he’s not dead either. With Cain’s resurrection, the battle between the two first begun in 1888 rages again. Because the past, like evil, never dies. It just—waits. 

http://bookswelove.net/authors/roughton-gail/

http://gailroughton.blogspot.com/

 

Looking back by Roseanne Dowell

I've got a birthday coming up next week. Seems like the older I get the quicker the time passes. Wasn't it just yesterday, I got married? Had my first child? First grandchild? First great grandchild. Certainly seems like it.
Nope, it wasn't just yesterday. I got married 54 years ago, had my first child 52 years ago,  my first grandchild 33 years ago, and  my first great grandchild almost 6 years ago. Since then I've been blessed with two more great grandchildren and another on the way.
I look back on those years and see how much time has changed. Not just couples, in a two bedroom duplex. The landlord lived downstairs. 

me, as a person, but everything in life. My husband and I started life on a shoestring like many young
We moved several times in the early years before we bought our first house. Most of our furniture was given to us by our parents, with the exception of our bed, it was brand new. Of course we got a lot of new stuff from our shower and wedding, and I thought we had everything  we needed. Which for the time, we did. A small black and white TV served as our entertainment. Living on a budget didn't allow for dinners or movies out very often. On weekends we visited family and played cards or just sat around and talked.
Can you imagine that? Just sitting around talking - no texting, no computers. Heck I didn't even have a typewriter until  years later after I had six kids and decided to try my hand at writing. And not one of those newfangled electric ones either. Nope, not right away at least and I didn't want one either.

We've lived through color TV, cable, satellite, and now netflix and so many other ways to watch TV.  When cable TV first came out, I couldn't imagine paying to watch television. Who needed that many channels to begin with? You could only watch one at a time. Never imagined watching one channel while recording several more.
I started out with a wringer washing machine - not that they didn't have automatic

washers, I just couldn't afford one. And I hung the clothes to dry -outside in the summer and inside during the winter. Yep, even had to hang diapers. Yes, diapers, real honest to goodness cloth diapers. No such thing as disposable - at least not that I knew of and even if there were I couldn't afford them. I think it was with my third child I finally had an automatic washer and dryer. Praise the Lord for small miracles. With two kids in diapers it was a God-send.

Can you imagine being tethered to a wall talking on a telephone? No such thing as portable phones, let alone cell phones. If you were out and had to make a phone call you found a phone booth. We saw a phone booth at a gas station the other day and my my husband was amazed.
I guess there's still a few around, but they're few and far between. Plus the phones had a dial, not push buttons back then. Growing up we had a party line on our phone - we shared phone service with someone else, which meant you'd often pick up the receiver to make a phone call and someone else would be talking. You'd have to wait for them to hang up before you could make your call.

 Most of the time the other party was considerate and hung up soon after. You heard a click when someone picked up the phone. Usually within 5 to 10 minutes the phone would be free. I can't imagine that now. My sister and I talk for hours when we get on the phone.
The old commercial (I believe it was for cigarettes - yes back when it was fashionable to smoke) You've come a long way, baby sure wasn't kidding and that was back in the 70s. We've come a long way since then.
I've seen a lot in my life-time. The first spaceship to the moon, the first man walking on moon - who would've thought?

 Typewriters to computers (I had a Commodore 64) to laptops, IPads, tablets and now smartphones.
Ah yes, many changes over the years. Sometimes I think things were better back then. Life was simpler. People were friendlier. Neighbors talked, kids played outside instead of having their nose in an ipad or whatever they use now.
But as they say, Life goes on. Hmm sounds like the title for a new book.

My book, Deadbeat Dads is available at Amazon.

After her husband leaves her for a younger woman, Erica Morris starts a group for ex wives of deadbeat dads. Little did she know just how many there were. 

In the process of rebuilding her life, someone tries to blackmail her. Can she put the past behind her or will it catch up to her?