Book Signing – I’m scared, maybe terrified – Barbara Baker

 

The book signing takes place January 14, 2023 at Owl’s Nest Books in Calgary, Alberta. Please come.

When my first novel, SUMMER OF LIES, was released, COVID was shaking up the world. People met on Zoom, Facetime or Messenger. No public gatherings allowed. I must admit, I was okay with that. Talking to real people in real time about my book scared me.

But now that WHAT ABOUT ME? has been released in a less restrictive COVID environment, I will be at my first book signing. In public. With those real people.

The logistics are taken care of. I have chocolates, a small poster, my favourite pen, a selection of colourful sticky notes and a bottle of hand-sanitizer. To be prepared, I Googled Everything I Need to Know about Book Signings. A few articles disagree with each other but spelling the person’s name correctly in the book, bringing your favourite pen and smiling were consistent throughout.

But here’s my problem. I’m an introvert. Stop laughing! I am. Honest. Yes, I can talk the ear off an elephant if need be and can converse with mammogram technicians like nothing is amiss, but when someone asks about my writing, I force my eyes not to dart around in search of an exit. And my mouth - well all the words it knows reaches the exit before I do.

I’m thankful that, in seconds, I can redirect the conversation - possibly mention grandkids. I have six of them and numerous tales of their antics. Or there’s my 90-year-old dad. He’s super interesting and I have a lifetime of stories to share about him.

When I attended my first writers’ retreat in 2009, I realized my hesitation to discuss my writing with strangers. At the introduction supper I sat at a large round table. There was constant chatter about agents and publishers and editing techniques. 

I was in awe of their writerly worldliness right up until someone asked me what I was working on. With my fork, I lifted a piece of lettuce from my plate and said, “do you think the dressing is raspberry vinaigrette?” Yes, I dodged that bullet! And I still deflect those conversations.

Why?

I wish I knew. Book reviews have been good. Emails and notes say readers enjoyed my novels. So why can’t I promote them? Do I have Imposter Syndrome? Maybe?

Today I blame the problem on my lack of sales skills. People say being good at sales is an art - just like writing. And it takes practice. Since I’m at the bottom of the ‘art of sales’ learning curve, I will take all suggestions on how to have a successful book signing.

In the meantime, I ask myself, what if no one shows up? Do I eat the chocolates? Do I cry? Do I cry first and then eat the chocolates?

You can contact me at: bbaker.write@gmail.com

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

On Finishing Manuscripts by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 

 

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

Exhausted and overcome by Christmas and another completed manuscript, I have naught the energy to write much more this month. So I shall give you fine readers this: a poem on finishing manuscripts. Enjoy! 

Twas the night before New Years, 

And all in the house,

A mother was writing

and trying to rouse

her creations! 

Of romance! and fear! and conclusions, 

but kiddos indulged with sugar lllusions

won't sleep. And now it is half past the hour, 

and mother, up late, is starting to sour,

and so as the hen scratch digs wounds on the page, 

she worries her ire is starting to rage, 

but despite all her kids and her spouse and chores, 

she finishes early, the manuscript soars!

from 'in progress' to 'finished'

my, what a delight, 

but now everyone's sleeping

she's up past midnight.

 So the New Year is gone, 

and the fireworks done, 

and now all she has left 

is to edit...

No fun. 

Hope everyone had a Happy New Year! :) 

Characters' job & hobby by J. S. Marlo

 

Wounded Hearts

"Love & Sacrifice #2"

is now available  

click here 

 

 

  

J. S. Marlo's BWL Books

When I started writing, someone told me to give my characters unusual/curious/interesting professions or hobbies, especially my female characters.

Over the years, I developed my characters in many different ways, so I went back to see what I've done with them--and what they haven't tackled yet. So, here are the biographies of some characters:

- Star is a scuba diver who investigates insurance claims. Hauk is a boat captain looking for underwater treasures.

- Riley is a librarian hoping to become a scriptwriter. Blythe is an actor whose real life is stranger and more dangerous than his fictional life.

- Rowan is a geologist turned B&B owner. Avery is a tormented RCMP looking for comfort in a bottle who likes to reconstruct animal skeletons. Bjorn is an Icelandic tour guide with a meddling grandmother.

- Amelia is an Army Colonel. Hope is a teenage deaf biathlete. Richmond is a sheriff haunted by his past.

- Julia is an accountant. Thierry is a teenage goaltender struggling with the code of silence. Luke is an explosive expert.

- Maxime is a university swimmer with a target on her back. Ross is an undercover officer.

- Liliane is a painter in charge of an election office. Jasper is a detective with a secret love interest.

- Becca is a journalist who snuck into a decommissioned military base and ended in the past. Ash is in charge of repairing and restocking warships.

- Violette is a jill-of-all-trade who gets trapped remodelling an escape room. Joe is a police officer who owns escape rooms. 

- Lana is a retired military nurse and potato farmer. Eli is a retired submariner raising his five-year old granddaughter.

I'll admit I'm partial to men & women in uniforms, but at the same time, I write mystery/murder/romance. Someone needs to arrest the perpetrator, but it's not always who it should be LOL

Happy Reading & Stay Safe!

J. S.

 

 

J. S. Marlo's Website

Sleep Over at the Library, Anyone? by Eileen O'Finlan

 

Click here for purchase information

Click here to visit Eileen O'Finlan's website

Has anyone ever told you to picture your "happy place?" They want you to imagine a spot where you feel perfectly comfortable, tranquil, and at home. When I picture my happy place, one image that often comes to mind is my town library. Only in my imagining, I'm the only one there. I'm sitting in one of the comfy chairs in the section they have set up to look like a living room. I've got a mug of hot cocoa topped with mounds of whipped cream on the table next to me, my cat lounging nearby, and the whole library all to myself. In this fantasy, it's winter. The untrodden snow is piled up outside while a toasty fire crackles in the fireplace. I can read as much and for as long as I want completely undisturbed. Paradise!

As is probably obvious, I have a deep love for books and libraries. I'm especially fond of the old libraries often found in small towns. I recently had the thought that it would be fabulous if someone would turn an old library into a B&B, one where you can kind of camp out in the library. The thought was so delicious, I decided to Google it because, you know, if a thing exists, you'll find it on Google.

Sure enough, there are such places! Be still my heart! 

Here are a few I found especially inviting:

Carnegie Hall Boutique Library

Gladstone's Library

The Library Suite

And this one in my beloved Vermont!

If you're reading this blog, you probably love books and libraries, too, so why not consider a library get away! Happy reading!

My experiences living on a converted liveaboard boat inspired the first chapter in The Immoral by Jay Lang

 

The Immoral

Jay Lang

Click this link to purchase book

http://bookswelove.net/lang-jay/

       My inspiration for this chapter came from my years living on my boat, a converted liveaboard that I moored in Deep Cove, B.C. For the four and a half years I called the boat my home, I saw more natural beauty in the magic of nature than I ever saw while living on land. I really wanted to let readers see what I had. I found it very comforting to go back into my memories and create the setting to this chapter.

Chapter One

The sound was intentional, unmistakable. I am not alone. I slowly rise from the narrow cot and tiptoe through the small cabin, overwhelmed with the feeling of impending doom. With each doorway I pass, my breathing stops and my heart pounds as I anticipate someone lunging from the darkness. A sliver of light from the crescent moon casts a dusty blue glow through the grimy windows and illuminates the front door—freedom. Carefully, I glide forward. I’m almost there. Heart pounding and legs weak, I reach out and touch the small round doorknob. I’ve made it. Then, the floor creaks from behind and a wave of terror rushes over me. My back tightens and I freeze, as though a cold hand has clutched the back of my neck. Terrified, I turn to face my fate.

* * *

Semi-conscious, I open my eyes and take a deep breath. The air is thick with ozone. I roll onto my side and look out the window. Angry clouds churn above the small cove. Electricity fills the pilothouse and the hair on my arm stands on end. Instinctively, I grab my phone from the pillow and check for any texts. Nothing from Kara. I get out of bed, struggling to keep my balance as the boat rocks. The wind whipping across the bay generates swells that slap hard against the hull as I walk out onto the stern to check the ropes and set down extra buoys between the dock and the boat. Hard sprays of sea water sting my face as gusts of wind push against me. 4 Back inside, I wipe my wet face on my sleeve and sit at the settee to catch my breath. I glance at the clock and see that it’s 4 AM. Considering the storm that’s brewing, there’s no way I’m going to get back to sleep.

Since I have to be up at 5:30 for work, I decide to gather my things and drive to the 24-hour café in the village, where I’ll hang out until my shift starts. I work as an emergency dispatcher for the local police station. After thirty-seven calls and a half-pot of coffee, all before lunch, I’m running on pure adrenaline and caffeine. I can’t wait for the day to be over when I can climb onto my boat and into my bed. About an hour before my shift ends, a call comes in from a woman, requesting to speak with an officer. She sounds panicked. I ask her what the nature of her complaint is. The woman tells me her teenage daughter, Molly, has been missing for four days. She says she wasn’t worried until she went into Molly’s laptop and found a conversation between her and an older man.

I was inspired to write about Molly after learning about the overwhelming number of girls that are lured away from the safety of their homes by online predators.

 I quickly put her call through to an available officer. A nauseous feeling forms in the pit of my stomach. I’ve only been working at the police station for a year and although I never deal with the people face-to-face, some of the calls stay with me long after my shift ends. After I’ve signed out, I’m making my way to my locker when I hear my boss calling my name.