My Tsunami Summer

http://bwlpublishing.ca/authors/carlson-s-l-ya-fantasy/

Summer is officially over. Thank God!


This past summer I couldn’t get enough of tsunami videos. I stoically watched 2-3 hours a day of YouTube footage, mostly of 2004 Indonesia and 2011 Japan. It wasn’t until the end of July when I finally acknowledged my strange summer obsession and looked up from the floodwaters long enough to question why. Answer: my summer had become wave after wave of losses. It all began with my husband’s sudden loss of health the third week in June.

He had earlier scheduled four weeks off this summer for vacation and study leave, including our second-ever cruise. It turned out to be not a vacation, nor study leave; not even staycation. It was a summer-long sickation with his mysterious illness continuing to baffle doctors as of this writing.

Included in this summer’s losses were the cruise and the money for it because, always being fit and healthy, we had not considered travel insurance. Our spare refrigerator-freezer quit working. Of course, since it’s not often used, I didn’t notice it had stopped until all the food was spoiled. Our second car (25-years-old) became no longer dependable. We sold it for parts, but have not gotten a replacement. We sold our boat of 13 years because he could no longer trailer it. This was the first summer that family has not visited us, nor us them. My husband’s dizziness made him unable to drive; I became chauffeur. He lost 30 pounds since the illness began. (Yay, weight loss; boo, unintentional.) I gave up knitting since I only knit at night while watching dramas with him, but he was not up for watching TV. I gave up gardening – the first time without veggies in our yard in over 40 years. We also loss power for six hours one evening, but no big deal. I gave up singing and playing guitar, but worst of all, stopped writing.

Unexpected positive things also came as a result of this past summer – spending hours together without distractions; unburdening ourselves of big material things; my husband could sit, so sorted and shredded 40 years of bills and receipts; I couldn’t concentrate to write, and didn’t want to be far from him, so began making miniatures (HO railroading scenery and buildings, D&D and gaming, and a miniature house for my grandkids, of their own house). Also, surprisingly, three places asked me to do book signings without me even contacting them.

With the dozens of medical tests, we know all the things which are going right for my husband. A bit of self-diagnosis, what ifs, and insisting on certain tests…we aren’t there yet, but we feel we’re getting close to finding answers.

My husband’s only about 50%, but able to drive himself to work. I began writing on my next book, and am very excited about it. I also quit watching tsunami videos.

Going through periods of loss is tough. Seeing the hope of light at the end of the tunnel is hopeful. May you, who have gone through or are going through loss, see some encouraging hope of light. Keep on writing. Keep on reading.

The Villain in the Story by Victoria Chatham

AVAILABLE HERE

I write historical fiction and was so pleased to co-author with Anita Davison on Envy the Wind, Book #11 in the Canadian Historical Brides collection. My preferred genre is mostly-sweet Regency romance but even in a sweet romance, there needs to be some issue to create conflict for the characters because, without it, there really is no story. Think of a piece of string. If it is laid out flat, it is boring, uninteresting. Nothing is happening. Now imagine there are several knots in it. Who tied that knot and why? Why did they choose to tie the knot in that particular place in the string? The whole picture changes.

In the same way that we construct three-dimensional characters for our heroes and heroines, our villains,

if they are to be credible, need to be three-dimensional too. It isn’t always the guy with half-shut left eye or scarred cheek who is a villain, nor the woman with perfect make-up and too-white smile. Just as our H/H’s come in all shapes and sizes, so too do our villains. Making them credible comes from creating their backstory just as you have

done with your H/H.

What happened in your villain’s life to make him/her the way they are? Just as the branches on a bonsai tree are formed and shaped with wire, so a villain’s character is formed and shaped by the circumstances he/she grows up in or by what happens to them. You only have to look at some of Disney’s villains to get the idea. Think Maleficent, who is betrayed by her lover Stefan’s ambitions to become king. To reach that end, he sets out to kill her, but at the last minute can’t do it so instead cuts off her wings. Easy to see why Maleficent became ticked off by that.  And then there’s Captain Hook, bent on revenge after Peter Pan cuts off his hand and feeds it to the crocodile. What about Scar in The Lion King? All the elements in those Disney villains are examples of how you can build your bad guys.

Villains walk like us and talk like us, for the most part. They can be intelligent and likable, the veritable good guy. People (your readers) quite like him when he’s on the page, maybe mirroring some of the better characteristics of your hero. He’s often kind, except that behind the kindness is the determination to get what he wants – usually at the hero’s expense.

While I have no problem creating a villain’s back story and showing some human element in them, I’m think I’m much better at making them more twisted than terrible, even though they might do terrible things. And the villain in Envy the Wind? I'm not telling. You'll have to read the book to find out!

Stately Ghosts

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Stately Ghosts

Vacationing on Vancouver Island is always a very relaxing and rewarding experience, and for the last couple of years I have also been able to define it as “work” as my new paranormal series, based around my main character Detective Carol Ainsworth, is set on that beautiful island and mostly in Victoria.

Victoria is reportedly the most haunted city in Canada, which is my main reason for setting these novels there, but also I suppose because it is close enough for me to do real research for a change, instead of relying on that good old staple Google. Tagging along of course is my very helpful wife, whose analytical madness I have become to rely on.

The Rogers’ Chocolates store, near the Empress hotel, is one supposedly haunted site so obviously well worth a visit (and for my wife to enjoy a girl’s best friend too of course!). The very wonderful and chatty lady that had been working there for the last ten years had known of ghostly goings-on, an example of which is that one morning all the boxes of vanilla chocolates from one shelf unit had been knocked onto the floor. Funny thing, it was only the vanilla chocolates, not the plain or toffee or nut, which were all still in their place. These were well known to be Leah Roger’s favorites. A rather colourful street person outside also had a story for me, in that his friend would walk by with his dog most evenings and the dog would, on many an occasion, stop and stare at the upper window, growling and barking at something which he only could see. Of course, this is where the living quarters for the Rogers were situated!

We spent the first two nights in the Emily Carr suite at The Pendray Hotel on the inner harbour, which is supposedly haunted by two male ghosts. This is precisely why we stayed there but unfortunately they did not think us worth a visit. (I could tell you that when I awoke at five in the morning and swore I got a vague whiff of oil paint).

After a relaxing three nights at the Point No Point resort in Sooke (no, no ghosts or ghost stories; however a pod of Orca did grace us with its presence) we spent our final night at the Fairmont Empress. I wanted to get a real feel for the place, especially during the wee hours. Our last evening was spent in the wonderfully appointed bar, The Q, which overlooks the harbour. A very morose young lady dressed all in black finished her glass of wine and left her window seat up for grabs. (Maybe more of this sad figure to come; she did have an effect on me.) Our very attentive waitress was happy to be quizzed and was very knowledgeable having worked there for some time. On asking about weird goings-on she did have one story, in that a customer came down to the bar rather pale looking and after downing his scotch in one said his wife and daughter had just seen a ghost and were currently moving rooms.

Whilst waiting for our vehicle the next morning I asked the valet the same question. His story was more compelling. He had a man report that his wife’s luggage had been opened when they got to their room and her clothes had been taken out and “ghost clothing” (his words so I presume they were old fashioned) had been put in their place. (This valet had been working there some years too; I guess Victoria is a great place to work!).

There are reports of several ghosts in the Empress; some old employees that rather enjoyed their jobs never seem to leave, even after death, and on occasion wander the halls. During recent renovations, two workers quit, claiming to see a man hanging from a noose. It was later discovered that indeed, in the fifties, a man had hanged himself in that very same suite.

It is also reported that the man that built the Empress and the parliament buildings, Francis Rattenbury, frequents his old glories, looking for recognition after dying in an unmarked grave.

So although we didn’t actually have any ghostly experiences ourselves, our trip was invaluable for information gathering, sight-seeing and just generally soaking up the atmosphere. Perhaps the story of book three in this series will find it is being told in Victoria too.

Have I ever seen a ghost, you ask? Well not as such, but I have had what I call a spiritual encounter that was rather spooky. A friend had hiked into the Stein Valley a few times and claimed to have some very spirit-based encounters. After taking a small ferry and parking my vehicle I hiked in a couple of kilometers to a campsite, passing some petroglyphs on the trail, and pitched a tent at a campsite near the river, all alone. That night I encountered weird voices outside the tent and something scratching the tent’s awning. After working up the courage I turned on my light and took a look around; nothing but the water flowing past in the Stein River. It happened a couple of times and after I fell asleep I felt as if I was flowing into the earth, becoming one with it. Very grounding. I had the sensation that whatever spirits were out there had checked me out and thought I was okay. Now I knew why the old native shamans would go into this valley to learn their craft. Although, when you’re alone in the pitch-black wilderness under only a thin layer of canvas, and something is scratching at your tent, it’s definitely time for new clean underwear!

Sincerely

Frank Talaber

twosoulmates@shaw.ca

My webpage

http://twosoulmates.wixsite.com/frankt-author-blog

Frank Talaber’s Writing Style? He usually responds with: Mix Dan Millman (Way of The Peaceful Warrior) with Charles De Lint (Moonheart) and throw in a mad scattering of Tom Robbins (Even Cowgirls Get The Blues).
PS: He’s better looking than Stephen King (Carrie, The Stand, It, The Shining) and his romantic stuff will have you gasping quicker than Robert James Waller (Bridges Of Madison County).

Or as is often said: You don’t have to be mad to be a writer, but it sure helps.

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The Video of The Joining, my upcoming series

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