I Have Authoritie, How About You #BWLPublishing #MFRWAuthor #Authoritis #Nursing #Writing

I HAVE AUTHORITIS. WHAT ABOUT YOU?

Years ago when I was a young nurse, I was admitting a patient. When I asked him why he was here, he said I have authoritis. I knew he met arthritis  but the word stuck with me for years. One day when sick with pneumonia and trapped by winter and a third floor attic apartment, my sister-in-law sent me a shopping bag full of books – all nurse romances. She liked them and thought since I was a nurse, so would I. There were perhaps two I really liked, maybe three that were all right, but most of them were not to my taste. The writers knew nothing about nurses, hospital and nursing care. They saw no difference between an aide, a LPN or a registered nurse. That day I decided to embrace the authoritis that had been floating in my unconscious mind for years.

     I sat down and began to write. I’ve always enjoyed playing with words and have been known to add scenes to my supposed dry case studies. I put conversations with the patients in these. My instructors never marked me down but they did note that these weren’t stories I was telling. But they were.

     An itis is a kind of disease. Think of dermatitis. It’s like an itch and so is authoritis. There’s an itch to write down words, turning them into sentences, paragraphs, scenes and chapters. This itch must be scratched regularly. And I do. Sometimes the scenes work and sometimes they need to be reworked.

     The cover for Murder and Mint Tea is one of the first I wrote back then. So was Past Betrayals, Past Loves but that book languished for years as a yellow carbon copy until I decided to rework it.

      Now the spellchecker is telling me this isn’t a word but I know it is. So does anyone who has that itch to write.  I have authoritis. How about you? Are you afflicted, too?

Dreams are NOT dreams in Darkness Descends, by J.C. Kavanagh

Darkness Descends, 
Book 2 from the award-winning Twisted Climb series 

Unlike the incredible, scary and mind-blowing adventures in the dream world of Darkness Descends, my writing dreams are actually coming true. The day is finally arriving - the official Chapters' launch of The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends. Yes, I'm a-quiver with anticipation knowing I'll be re-acquainted with so many of The Twisted Climb readers and fulfilling my promise that I'd be back with the sequel.

Saturday the 20th is the big day. I'll be heading to the Chapters' store in Brampton, Ontario armed with custom book marks and a come-hither smile. The last time I was there (April 2018), I sold-out all copies of The Twisted Climb - but I made sure to inform every person who purchased a copy that the sequel, Darkness Descends, was in the final editing stages. And that it contained even more action and adventure and drama.

The book has been well received and in fact, has multiple 5-star ratings on Amazon as well as three 5-star ratings from the American book review company, Readers' Favorite. Lit Amri wrote: Darkness Descends has a "very well thought out premise. The "fantastical and ominous dream world" and "the clever plot twists make Darkness Descends an absolute page-turner."

Stephen Fisher agreed:  Darkness Descends is "a cleverly conceived story. J.C. Kavanagh does a superb job of creating a vast and puzzling dream world. She really brings this story to life, and I was entertained on all levels. I could not put The Twisted Climb-Darkness Descends down.

Outstanding job. I would love to see this grace the silver screen, or possible cable series."

 Here's a wee snippet from The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends.

The canoe began to move sideways in the river as the current of the Devil’s Door Rapids strengthened. They were drifting down the river instead of across it.

“Paddle hard!” Max shouted. The steam seemed to be thickening as they paddled against the current. Connor finally matched pace with Jayden’s stroke as they struggled to travel across. Perspiration glistened on their foreheads and they redoubled their efforts to manipulate the canoe on a forward path. The air temperature was rising significantly and the mist loomed like a low-lying fog. The moon glared down from its peak in the black sky, its rays sparkling within the fog around them, like mini diamonds. Suddenly, a chorus of wolf howls wailed in the distance. It was a familiar, chilling sound.

“It’s getting hotter and I can’t see through the mist,” hollered Jayden.

“What did you say?” The water was lapping loudly against the hull of the canoe, drowning Jayden’s voice.

Max leaned forward and his knee bumped into the zippered bag tied to the yoke. Curious, he unzipped it and peered inside.

“What’s in the bag?” Connor asked.

Max pulled out an unusual pair of goggles, holding them up like a peace offering to the moon. He gasped in delight when he realized what he held.

“Oh yeah!” he hooted into the darkness “They’re night vision goggles!” They were similar to a pair he borrowed regularly from his next door neighbour.

Max placed them over his eyes and adjusted the head strap. Immediately, the terrain was transformed into neon green and dark grey and he could see across the river and into the shadowy base of the squat mountain. They were heading in the wrong direction, though, and Max barked out new directions.

“Connor, steer to port!”

“In English,” Connor yelled. “Steer to the left?”

“Yes, left!” replied Max. “Left equals port!”

Max adjusted the goggle lenses to adapt to both the moonlight and the viscous waves of fog. He could see the current in the water moving on his right which meant they were travelling in the proper direction – across and not down the river.

Jayden glanced back in mid-stroke. “What do you see? And what is that sound?”

The calming rush of river water had slowly been replaced with a louder and more thunderous crashing sound.

Max moved his head in slow motion to the right, analyzing the imagery illuminated through the goggles. Internal gauges on the perimeter of the viewfinder displayed distance and temperatures. Based on the temperature fluctuations, he detected numerous hot springs sluicing all around them. Straight ahead, about 60 metres according to the goggles, a sandy shoreline loomed. But to the right, the river appeared to fall off and the thunderous cascading sound was louder than ever. The strong current was pulling them toward it. Max knew what it was: Devil’s Door Waterfall.

“Stay left! Jayden, give me some paddle power and Connor, steer hard to port – left!”

Jayden renewed her efforts, bending forward with each stroke. She couldn’t distinguish river or land through the mist, and the crashing sound of water made it difficult to hear Max. She leaned forward and her foot touched something at the bottom of the canoe. It was a zippered bag. The shadows in the bow prevented her from identifying it and she kicked the bag into the moonlight. Hoping it contained another pair of goggles, she leaned forward, eagerly unzipping the bag with one hand. The moon finally evaded cloud cover and burst into brilliance just as Jayden reached in and touched a smooth, cool object. Grasping it firmly, she pulled on it but stopped suddenly. Whatever was in there was alive and squirming. Inhaling sharply and repulsed by the contact, Jayden released it in disgust. She withdrew her hand and then recoiled in horror as the bag rippled and undulated in slithering motions. There were no night-vision goggles in this bag.

“Snakes! SNAKES!”

Jayden bolted backward, falling into the bottom of the canoe. She rolled to one side in panic and the canoe tipped precariously. Her left hand still gripped the paddle while her right hand searched for support.

Max grabbed hold of the gunwales, the topside of the canoe. “Be still or we’ll tip!”

Jayden scrambled back as the moonlight became a spotlight on the snakes slithering out of the bag. The canoe tipped sideways again as she pulled herself in a semi-upright position in front of Max. Her paddle was dragging in the water and the force of the current yanked it out of her hand.

Connor was scrambling with his paddle, bringing it from left to right in an attempt to stay on course while maintaining balance. But it was too late.

The first snake lifted its head, poised to attack, and Jayden lurched to the left. Her sudden movement sent the canoe into capsize mode and before anyone could react, it overturned. She screamed helplessly as they were thrown into the hot, churning rapids.

* * *

If you're in the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) on Saturday, October 20, come by the Chapters store at

Market Hall, 52 Quarry Edge Drive, Brampton, Ontario L6V 4K2.

J.C. Kavanagh 

The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) 

AND

The Twisted Climb, 

voted BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers' Poll

Novels 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)

Visiting a Historical Church in Houston, Texas

The Antioch Missionary Baptist Church, the first free African-American church in Houston, Texas, played an important role in the history of the American South and beyond.

Antioch Missionary Baptist Church

The Declaration of Emancipation, signed by President Abraham Lincoln on September 22, 1862, declared that all slaves from states in “active rebellion” during the Civil War be granted freedom. The Declaration, however, did not cover Texas, which while aligned with the Confederacy, did not participate in active rebellion.

This situation continued until after the Civil War ended, when on June 18, 1865, General Grainger of the Union government arrived at Galveston Bay, close to Houston, and ordered all slaves in Texas, the last existing slaves in America, to be set free.

Reverend Jack Yates was born into slavery in Kentucky in 1828. Through self-education, he became knowledgeable in the Bible. In 1865, he moved to Houston and started preaching in a “Brush Arbor,” a church for slaves and freemen under trees.

A great organizer, he was quite successful and in 1868, became ordained as a Baptist Pastor. He convinced his congregation to purchase a piece of land in Freedman’s Town, now a part of downtown Houston, and build a Church on it. Besides worship, he was instrumental in establishing ministries that helped develop educational, economic and social skills.

Rev. Jack Yates

However, he is most known for a movement he started. Determined to honor the day of final emancipation of African Americans, he organized an event which he termed “Juneteenth.” Unfortunately, opposition arose when the City of Houston would not allow celebrations to take place in any of its parks, due to racial opposition.

Undaunted, Rev. Yates organized the community to buy its own park, which he named Emancipation Park, for their festivities. Since then, Juneteenth celebrations are observed in many cities throughout America and even in other countries.

Last year, I had the good fortune to visit the church. I was greeted with wonderful hospitality by the congregants and deacons and attended a presentation on the church’s history. I sat on one of the original hand-carved pews bearing the marks of adzes of the freed men, enjoyed gospel music and the energetic sermon of the pastor. I would encourage all visitors to Houston to explore this wonderful institution.

Mohan Ashtakala is the author of "The Yoga Zapper," published by Books We Love.