Deadly Mixture

 Deadly Mixture (published August 1 by BWL publishing) takes my readers back to Pine County. As with all my books, the research took me a number of unexpected places, in geography as well as content. 

For the uninitiated, Pine County is 1,400 square miles located just an hour's drive north of the St. Paul/Minneapolis urban area. The journey quickly leaves behind the urban centers, then suburbs, taking us past farmland, then into Pine County's forests, lakes, swamps, and rivers. 

I've interviewed three Pine County sheriffs who've pointed out the unique police issues facing the rural sheriff's departments. The first issue is police response time. There are nights were only two deputies are assigned to patrol that huge area. If they respond to a crime or car accident in the farthest corner of the county, it might take them 45 minutes to respond to an emergency in the other corner of the county. 

Many residents are trying to escape the hubbub of the urban areas. They seek the solitude, but expect all the services available in the urban and suburban homes. Police response time is one issue. There are other trade-offs as well. You lose the anonymity of the city and enter a community where people know their neighbors and look out for each other. The other side of that coin surprises many people who relocate to "the boonies." Your neighbors get to know you. They bump into you at the grocery store. They also know what you do, have done, and may do at some future time.

A widower friend started dating a year after his wife died. He had breakfast the morning after his date at the local mom and pop restaurant. He was surprised when the waitress asked about the restaurant where he'd taken his date the previous night. Someone else asked about the movie they'd seen, and a third person expressed his disappointment that my friend was dating so soon (one year) after becoming a widower.

I try to capture those issues in the Pine County books. The teens in Deadly Mixture are trying to escape the prying eyes of the community. They use an abandoned hunting shack to escape what they see as the oppression in their dysfunctional families. A series of unfortunate choices throw them into a deadly mixture of truancy, drugs, and death.

Sergeant Floyd Swenson is back, as is his girlfriend, Mary. Other regulars include Pam Ryan, freshly returned from maternity leave, and Sandy Maki. I've introduced a new character, C.J. Jensen, a veteran cop hired to cover for Pam's maternity leave. C.J. (Charlene Joy) is rebounding from the recent death of her husband. Her basset hound pup, Bailey, brings some humor and another set of challenges to the small sheriff's department.

What I learned writing my first novel, the ignorance of a beginner by Diane Scott Lewis

 Escape the Revolution: "Simply brilliant" Historical Novel Society.

To purchase my novels and other BWL books: BWL

Never write a rambling saga with too many characters that's bursting at the seams at nearly 200,000 words!

I started writing as soon as I could put words on a page; I loved to tell stories. I even had a short story submitted to a literary festival from my high school.

Then I joined the navy, traveled to Greece, met a man and married. And we're still married.

Two children came quickly. I didn't start writing again for twenty years.

Then I decided it was time to dip in the pen, again. Or rather, sneak in writing on my work computer.

The Rude Awakening: I thought I knew everything about writing, but found I knew nothing.

Escape the Revolution, which went through many names and covers, was my first effort.

I rambled on in my story, chapters too long, describing everything, cramming in my stellar research, and the book grew huge. 170,000 words. Who knew there were page and word limits.

Or POV (point of view) restrictions. Everyone had a POV, even a dog or a horse. Thoughts hopping all over the place. Actually, I wasn't that bad in this regard. I've read other authors who made these mistakes.

Where would my story go? I only had a small notion but didn't want it to end, so on I wrote.

Then I bought books on writing and editing. Another shock. There needed to be plot, and structure; your character couldn't just wander on forever to the next adventure. They must have a goal, a conflict, to drive them on. Each person should have a solid POV, perhaps one per scene; but too many characters with 'thoughts' can get confusing.

'Would', 'could', and 'should', must be used sparingly. Gerunds also should not be overused, all those words ending in 'ing'. So many things to avoid. Don't even ask about the much-maligned 'was'.

No double exclamations, heck, hardly any exclamations allowed.

Each scene must be its own structure with a beginning, middle, and end.

Passive vs. Active voice. 

Plus, get that research correct if you write historicals. You don't want any Tiffanys wearing bloomers in the18th century.

Develop your characters, even the minor ones; what is their background, their goals? Even the villains need 'reasons' why they act they way they do. 

Action, Reaction, Decision.

Exhausting. First, I stripped out too much from the story, then realized I needed to put much of it back in, just in a cleaner, tighter way. I had to cut the book into two books because of the length. 

The sequel: Hostage to the Revolution, was published to finish the story.

I'm glad I learned so much from books, workshops, and other authors. The knowledge has been worth it. I've been with my on-line critique group for sixteen years.

To find out more about me and my books, please visit my website: DianeScottLewis

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty dachshund.

Green Plant versus Brown Thumb by Helen Henderson

Windmaster Golem
Click the cover for purchase information

During lockdowns for COVID-19, many people turned to hobbies, do-it-yourself projects, or exercise for mental and physical well being. One thing that fit all the  criteria is gardening.

Now let me say first off, I did not voluntarily decide to be one of those who turned to a garden for therapy or exercise. I have what has been called a brown thumb. Over the years, my brown thumb has killed plants, bushes, and other green living things including cacti, ivy, grass, forever plants, and azalea bushes. Some of which are under normal circumstances almost indestructible.

What makes my ability as a terminator more remarkable is that I grew up on a farm in the "Garden State." And, yes, that is the official nickname for my home state. 

Besides the cash crops of eggs, sheep, wheat, corn and such, we had a lilac bush so big you could ride a pony through the middle of bush. In fact our Shetland pony and a sheep used to play hide and seek and tag using the bush as shelter and hidey hole. The weeping willow tree that was as tall as our two-story farmhouse provided hours of play on the tire swing or shade for reading and cloud watching.

As  might be expected we also had a garden. It provided fresh vegetables for the dinner table and extras for canning and friends.  One of the many chores and tasks needed to keep a farm running was pulling weeds and hoeing the garden. As you can see I  am not a total stranger to gardening and plants. It is just that when it was my garden, my house plants, my landscaping, they died.

After my move south, for several seasons I tried container gardening. As to why containers were selected?  I couldn't decide where on the property to put the garden. Another consideration? Farm equipment and sibling labor were not available and I was not going to turn a plot over by fork and spade by myself.  Of course I didn't have any luck with the several tubs of tomato and pepper plants I attempted to grow.

This spring a local DIY (do-it-yourself) store gave away a different project each week and several family members decided to participate. The lobby pine given out died within three weeks. The milkweed seeds didn't get planted. That will happen when I build the butterfly house part of the project. 

First tomatoes harvested, 2021

Pepper and tomato plants were the next weeks project. For being the first in line the stock boy coordinating the distribution handed me a bush-type tomato plant. It was shortly afterwards paired with a vine type a family member donated to the project. The vine tomato is just now producing, Its fruit are the size of golf balls, a far cry from the large ones that were already harvested.

It has been very interesting experiment. The plant are on my covered back stoop. Besides watering (or keeping them from getting drowned in the summer storms), they were shifted against the house when they needed protection from high winds. Of course I did have to rely on someone who had successfully gardened in the locale as the climate and conditions are drastically different than what I was familiar with. (And so are the bugs, including a very aggressive green species.) So much time (think decades) had passed since those early childhood gardens, that research on the care and feeding of the two very different plants.

Authors are always told to write what you know. Which must be why none of my characters insisted they be master gardeners. So far the only one who has any real experience is Deneas whose tale is told in my current work in progress, Fire and Amulet (scheduled for release next year.) If any other of my characters are gardeners, they will probably be hydroponic engineers who are in trouble because of a brown thumb.

Here is what happened to her garden. To set the scene, it is the evening before she leaves on a journey from which she will probably never return.

An idea formed on how to thwart Karst from getting anything he hadn’t earned. Instead of sleep, she spent the cool candlemarks under the moon pulling the root vegetables that were ready for harvesting. The red fruit that hung heavy on the vine filled another large basket. Next she took the growing pots her mother had made or bartered for and by the time the moon was full overhead had half the garden in pots ready to be gifted to others in her village.

This experiment has given me a greater understanding of why some assisted living facilities have a raised garden for their residents. The daily routine of watering, snipping errant sucker vines, and monitoring for bugs and ripeness can be therapeutic.

As to whether I will try gardening again ? That remains to be seen. I prefer more interactive beings. Depending on their loquaciousness, you can actually hold conversations with a dog or cat. Our 18-year-old cat could quite clearly say "Now" and "Out." And when she's in a good mood, the husky I visit, can talk your ear off. Especially if you answer her.

 

 To purchase the Windmaster Novels: BWL

 ~Until next month, stay safe and read. Helen

Find out more about me and my novels at Journey to Worlds of Imagination.

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Helen Henderson lives in western Tennessee with her husband. While she doesn’t have any pets in residence at the moment, she often visits a husky who have adopted her as one the pack.