Friday, April 14, 2023

Creating a Fantastic but Believable Setting by BC Deeks, Paranormal Mystery Fiction Author

 

 Visit B.C. Deeks' BWL Author Page for Book and Purchase Information 


 

http://bookswelove.net/deeks-bc/



SETTING is crucial to a story’s development and the reader’s experience in any fictional work, but never more so, in my humble opinion, than in a fantasy. If an author is working on a contemporary story, you can count on the reader to have enough personal experience to fill in the blanks with minimal prompting. 

In the fantasy genre, all bets are off. It is up to the author to show the reader how far they should suspend their disbelief in every aspect of the world they are entering—from the ground they stand on, to the creatures they will encounter, the language that will be spoken…Indeed, every aspect of the reading experience can be distorted to best tell the story that is about to unfold. The setting where all this distortion will occur must support the changes from what the reader has come to expect in ‘real life.’

It would be jarring for a fur-covered fire breathing dragon to appear on the sunbaked beaches of Florida, for example. Not that it couldn’t be done but the author would sure have to work at developing plausibility for such a scenario.

When I created a family of supernatural beings inspired by witches, I needed to base them in a dimension that could support their use of powerful magic as a daily occurrence. I decided that not everyone should have such powerful magic, so therefore my primary characters would be the Guardians to the ruling Council of Master Witches. Their powers would draw from the elements of nature – air, water, fire, earth, and a fifth universal element known as Aether. The rest of the population would have diluted powers linked to nature but not of the same strength.

Since my characters must be freely able to interact with their elements, I supposed that they would need lush outdoor spaces, with mountains and forests, oceans and open skies. Yes, I thought, a rocky island out in the ocean…much like where I grew up! My magical dimension of The Otherland began to take shape. 

The Island of Newfoundland where I was born is definitely on earth although far enough out in the North Atlantic to forget at times. Its history dates back to the Vikings and leans heavily to Irish, who believe in everything from fairies to leprechauns, four-leaf clovers to banshees, and have all sorts of rituals to ward off evil spirits or bad luck. There were still Gaelic speakers in Newfoundland well into the 20th century and, like the Irish, we love to spin a tale!

Of course, my characters would travel to other dimensions, so I adopted the accepted fantasy principles of portal magic and integrated that into my imaginary world. My supernatural beings would have a gateway on the edge of the granite cliffs that allowed them to pass through to alternate realms, including the mortal world. Since I wanted to write a series, this would allow for a revolving door so they could visit a wider range of story settings like the coastal regions of Seattle or the mountains of Montana when adventure called. And adventure does summon the Egan family members...

Mythics and mortals battle dark forces in my epic paranormal mystery adventure trilogy, BEYOND THE MAGIC. In Book 1: WITCH UNBOUND, Marcus, the powerful eldest brother, is sent to the mortal realm to investigate the murder of two long-lost Guardians of The Otherland. Can he abandon everything he’s ever believed to save the life of an extraordinary witch who knows nothing of her heritage? Together they begin a quest to deflect an ancient prophecy that could destroy his world. Marcus’s brother, Theo, and sister, Elowyn, join that quest in Book 2: MORTAL MAGIC and Book 3: REBEL SPELL, respectively, coming in 2023.



Thursday, April 13, 2023

Two Easters


This year my family is celebrating two Easters…one in America and one in Greece.

Elysian mysteries in ancient Greece celebrate rebirth after death in winter. In modern Greece, Easter celebrations connect with the Christian Orthodox faith.

In Greece...Easter means RED eggs!

  
...and candles at midnight

There have been accounts of dying and rising gods for thousands of years of our history…the resurrection of Egyptian Horus, Mithras, worshipped at Springtime, Dionysus, resurrected by his grandmother. All the stories highlight fertility, conception, renewal, descent into darkness, and the triumph of light over darkness or good over evil. They represent the cycle of the seasons and the stars.

The goddess Eostre


From Lakota scholar Tristan Picotte, here's a New World view: “For many Native American cultures, the seasons also coincide with certain traditions and beliefs. The arrival of warmer weather signals the return of animals and plants. Beautiful greens roll across the plains and mountains, and wildlife forages in the area. Tribes recognize this as the time to gather, confer with one another and make decisions that affect the community as a whole. For our ancestors, these gatherings decided who got to go where, how adversarial tribes were to be handled, and what new resources were available.”


The name of our holiday, Easter, comes from Eostre, goddess of Spring, also Ostara, Austra, and Eastre. She is a spirit of renewal.


The Latin name for Easter, Pascha is derived from the Hebrew Pesach, meaning Passover. Both holidays celebrate rebirth – in Christianity through the resurrection of Jesus, and in Jewish traditions through the liberation of the Israelites from slavery.



Whether you observe a religious holiday or the coming of Spring, I wish you a happy spirit of rebirth.




Wednesday, April 12, 2023

Inside Police Headquarters


                                        For author and book information, please click this link.

My current novel-in-progress got into police work more than I'd planned when I made two homicide detectives viewpoint narrators. I wrote scenes of them in their workplace from information I recalled from a years ago visit to Calgary Police Service Headquarters - Westwinds, but mostly from my imagination. During revisions of the novel, I made a list of questions I'd ask someone familiar with the place, if I ever had the chance. 

Then a writer-friend mentioned that Calgary homicide detective Dave Sweet had generously answered her questions about her crime novel. I'd enjoyed Dave's presentations on homicide cases at local crime writing events and read his memoir, Skeletons in My Closet. My friend gave me his email address and I wrote to him and asked if he'd mind answering my questions. He replied right away, saying he'd be happy to help. 

I emailed my list to Dave. Again he quickly replied. My first question was my greatest worry: are the homicide and robbery units located in Westwinds?  If they weren't, I'd either have to do a major novel revision or ignore this fact. To my relief, Dave answered yes, both were in the Investigative Services Building on the west side of Westwinds campus. I didn't remember this second building from my visit.  

Evidently, from my questions, Dave got the hint that I was interested in the workplace environment because he offered me a tour of Westwinds, if I was interested. Yes, I was really interested, and the earlier the better. David said the next day would work for him, unless he got a call out before then. I knew once he was hot on a case, I'd lose the opportunity. We arranged to meet the following afternoon at the entrance to the Investigative Services Building. 


In my novel, I'd described a large lobby. Instead, I entered a cozy space, with a few padded chairs and a side room with toys and a computer screen for children who come in with their parents. Dave waved me past the reception desk and into a huge, oval atrium. He explained that CPS bought the building from Nortel in 2009 when the telecommunications company filed for bankruptcy; the rooms along the sides of the atrium had been Nortel's executive offices. CPS converted the building to police use, but this space didn't look like any police stations I've seen on TV. He said they use the atrium for large gatherings and the side rooms for special meetings.   
  

From the atrium, we went to the homicide unit offices. In my novel, I'd given my Detective Mike Vincelli an office with a door. Instead, Calgary detectives work in cubicles. Dave didn't take us in, to protect his colleagues' privacy, but he pointed out a glass enclosed room in the far corner, where the unit's four cold case detectives work. Their windows face west and would have a view of the city skyline and mountain backdrop. My novel had my cold case Detective Novak working in a windowless storage room, which reflected his depressed mood. Now I thought this glass fishbowl office might offer intriguing possibilities.      

Next Dave took me down a corridor to a service elevator, located in Nortel's former delivery dock. This brought us to the holding cells, which I found creepy. The cells were behind solid doors; no looking out through bars. Voices carried between the cells and into the central corridor. Two detainees talked rapidly and loudly. 

"Getting their stories straight," Dave said.  

I looked through a peephole into an empty cell, directly at a toilet. Two narrow benches lined the walls on either side. Dave said they rarely kept people more than thirteen hours, with twenty-fours the maximum before they sent them home or to longer-term facilities. This would be a problem for my book. I'd had the police keep two of my suspects close to forty-eight hours, which I'd thought was the maximum allowable time before laying charges. Could I change this without radically altering my story? 

Sometimes it's better not to know too much. Few readers would notice if I brushed aside this policing fact, but I started contemplating solutions for my novel.    

In the holding area, we went into an interview room, which was smaller and drearier than I'd expected. Cameras in the corners, but no window for outsider viewing. Peeling paint on the greenish walls. The room had an acrid smell. Dave said they let interviewees smoke to not put them on edge. For the same reason, the police don't bring their guns into the room. Interviews are typically one-on-one, although a second detective might sit in or stand outside the door if they anticipate a dangerous situation. 

We left the Investigative Services Building and went outside to the main headquarters building. On the way, we passed a grassy area with benches and a picnic table. In my novel, Novak meets someone connected to the cold case in an outdoor area. I'd need to make some minor changes to the setting. The main headquarters building contains classrooms, training rooms for new recruits, and Westwinds' largest gym, where a recruit class jogged back and forth at an easy pace. Dave said they'd gradually speed up and some would drop out of the pack.   

"They'll never be more fit than they are now," he said. After recruits become full-fledged officers, CPS no longer requires them pass fitness tests. Now that I knew Westwinds had gyms, I could include my line that Novak had never entered one, to illustrate his disinterest in exercise.     

I came home with lots of material to work my novel-in-progress. Many were easy fixes. I'd asked Dave, Do police generally refer to the building as headquarters or Westwinds or something else?  Westwinds usually, he said. In my manuscript, I changed this with a simple word find/replace. For my largest problem, I came up with a (hopefully) good reason for the police to keep one of my suspects for two days, but had them release the other one on time. This involved deleting, shuffling, and changing much material, but I think it improved the overall storyline. 

While my tour gave me extra writing work, it wasn't onerous. I think the new details give my story pizazz. Maybe readers sense when something rings true. And, if nothing else, I found my look inside police headquarters interesting.  

Tuesday, April 11, 2023

Observations From a Picky Reader, by Karla Stover

 


By The Same Author:

Murder: When One Isn't Enough

A Line to Murder

Wynter's Way

Parlor Girls

BWLPUBLISHING.ca

If the word, "Scottish" refers to whiskey, why is my cellophane tape called "Scotch Tape"?

I'm just asking.

Is it wrong to be a critical reader, or does paying attention to other's mistakes make us better writers? The more fiction I read ( or see ) the more picky I become. I will start with the TV show, Fraser. I wasn't a fan but occasionally we watched an episode and the only one I can remember involved a thunder storm. Everyone was in Fraser's apartment, as they usually were, while outside the picture windows thunder and lightening crashed and flashed. It created good atmosphere except this was supposed to be Seattle and we rarely have thunder storms here on Puget Sound; if we do, they last about five minutes.

Another example I recall took place in Hollywood years ago when the book, The Egg and I was being made into a movie ( and not a very good one). One of the characters was named Geoduck pronounced Gooey Duck. The book's author, Betty MacDonald, was on the set during filming and why she allowed the name to be pronounced Gee (to rhyme with we) Oh Duck is beyond me.

Picky, picky you say but I'm on a roll. Several years ago my husband and I went to visit a lilac garden. It was 80 or so years old and had an interesting history so I read a book about how the garden came to be. The thing I remember most is that the gardener picked flowers from her yard for a funeral or something and the bouquet included asters and daffodils among others. Those two particular flowers bloom three or four months apart so how did she manage this? By poor research on the part of the author.

More recently I picked up a book with a creepy-sounding title and cover to match. As I recall, the author was a New Yorker which is probably why she filled the landscape with pine trees and had it rain practically all day every day. Yes it rains in Puget Sound but almost never does it go on for hours and hours on end. Generally half the day will be dry, and as for trees, well we have lots of cedar, fir, alder and madrone trees but not many pines. I rechecked this morning when I took my dog for a walk in the woods.

My writer friend Pat Harrington (Death Stalks the Khmer) always said books are like a 3-legged stool: equal parts people, place and plot. My own particular weakness is "place." Pat did an excellent job of getting into the heart of the local Cambodian community because she worked in it, dealing with the refugees and their customs, and problems in assimilating.  C.S. Harris, author of the Sebastian StCyr mysteries also does a really good job of recreating Prince Regency England. 

As for how to write about Puget Sound, I just discovered The Big Both Ways, a book that starts in Seattle and ends in Alaska. Boy did the author do a good job.

I discussed this with some friends Wednesday over lunch and we agreed that fiction writing demands a certain amount of fact checking to capture the reader's interest.

The 3 books I mentioned make me extra careful of surroundings.

Monday, April 10, 2023

Going to the Dentist – By Barbara Baker

 


Since I was a kid, I’ve dreaded going to the dentist. So why would I volunteer to take my granddaughter to see one?

“She’s never had teeth pulled before,” my son says. “Are you sure you want to take her?”

“Yup. I’m not the one pulling her teeth out. The dentist is the bad guy. Not me.”

When we get to the dentist’s office, Ainsley grabs my hand. “Come on.”

She leads me through a colourful hallway, and we climb twisty stairs. At the top, we’re in a tree fort. A tree fort in a dentist office. How cool is that? We test out bean bag chairs in front of a big tv while cartoons race across the screen. Then we move on to a computer at the base of the tree and Ainsley tries out her math skills until they call her name.

“Follow me,” the dental assistant, Breanne says. “Jump right up here.” She taps the blue chair.

Ainsley hands me her stuffies for safe keeping, puts on the fashionable glasses and gets on the chair.

“So, you’ve got some stubborn baby teeth,” Breanne says and then explains what’s going to happen. She’s animated and entertaining and makes it sound like what’s about to happen will be fun.

I cradle the stuffies and watch Ainsley’s hands. They’re relaxed. Fingers spread out. What a brave girl. If she knew what was about to happen, she’d clench them into a ball.

“Hello,” the dentist greets us in a cheerful voice. “I’m going to put in some freezing so you won’t feel anything when the teeth come out.” He pulls Ainsley’s lip out and taps where the needle will go. “But you might feel a bit of a pinch when I do it.”

Ainsley nods.

The dentist slides the longest needle ever towards Ainsley but keeps it down low out of her line of vision. Clever guy.

“Open wide,” he says. “Here comes the little pinch.”

I squeeze the stuffies. Ainsley’s index finger taps the chair once but then relaxes. The dentist jiggles her lip while telling her baby teeth sometimes need help to come out so the adult teeth, which are currently facing the back of her mouth, grow properly. He slips the needle out and passes it discreetly to Breanne.

“I bet your lip feels funny now.”

Ainsley nods again.

“That’s the freezing working.” He smiles. “I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”

“What do you think the tooth fairy will bring?” I say.

“I don’t know if the Tooth Fairy is real.” Ainsley scrunches up her lip.

“Okay. But if she is real, how much money would she bring?”

“She brings money?” Ainsley puckers up her mouth and presses a finger on her lip. “It feels really big.”

“Yup, it’ll feel like that but,” Breanne passes her a small mirror, “look, it’s not big at all.”

Ainsley tips the mirror back and forth to examine her lip.

When the dentist returns, I sit up straight, reorganize the stuffies and squish them together. Tight.

“Okay, kiddo. Let's do this.” The dentist takes a silver plier-like grabby tool, slides it down out of sight again and brings it up to Ainsley’s chin. “Open wide.”

I perch on the edge of my chair and watch Ainsley’s hand. Still relaxed. She’s such a trooper.

“There’s one.”

The tooth pings into a container. He brings the grabby tool back to Ainsley’s chin. Her fingers, her hands – nothing flinches.

“There’s the second one.”

Ping. It also falls into the container.

The dentist looks at me. “Tell her parents not to worry. Those adult teeth will move right into place. Probably in a few weeks.” He turns back to Ainsley. “Good job. I knew you could do it.”

Breanne gives Ainsley two tokens to claim her prizes and then shows her the tiny teeth tucked safe in a miniature treasure chest.

“Wait till the Tooth Fairy sees these.” Ainsley skips down the hallway.

Treehouses? Painless tooth removal? And prizes? What a great day! For all of us.

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

 

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