Authors' Quirks by J. S. Marlo

 

 

Wounded Hearts

"Love & Sacrifice #2"

is now available  

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J. S. Marlo's BWL Books

    Sometimes writers have weird quirks, and that makes me feel so much better. Here are a few:

    Mystery author Agatha Christie suffered from dysgraphia, a neurological disorder characterized by writing disabilities. The disorder causes a person's writing to be distorted or incorrect. As a result, she dictated her novels to another person.

 

    Winner of 1962 Nobel Prize in Literature John Ernst Steinbeck Jr. wrote his books by hand and used up to 60 pencils per day. He used 300 pencils to complete East of Eden.

        BTW, there’s a term to describe the cramping resulting from holding a pencil too long: mogigraphia.

    Elizabethan scribe Peter Bales reportedly produced a complete, handwritten copy of the Bible so small it could fit inside a walnut shell.

    German playwright and poet Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller kept rotten apples in his desk, claiming he needed the scent of their decay to help him write.

    British poet Edith Sitwell reportedly liked to lie in an open coffin before she began her day’s writing.

    Poet Amy Lowell once bought a stash of 10,000 cigars, claiming she needed them to help her write.

    

    English writer Graham Greene would write 500 words a day and then stop – even in the middle of a sentence.

English novelist Anthony Trollope began his writing day at 5:30 every morning. He would write 250 words every 15 minutes, pacing himself with a watch.

    Elizabethan scribe Peter Bales reportedly produced a complete, handwritten copy of the Bible so small it could fit inside a walnut shell.

  

 American children's author Theodor Seuss Geisel a.k.a. Dr. Seuss had a secret closet filled with more than 500 hats. When stuck in a story, he would wear them until the words came.

    American novelist, screenwriter, and playwright Truman Capote often wrote while lying on his back, with a glass of sherry in one hand and a pencil in the other. He sharpened pencils to help him think while he wrote, and so did American novelist and short-story writer Ernest Hemingway.

    Me, I keep a pen and a notepad under my bed in case I wake up in the middle of the night with an idea. I scribble it in the dark, so I don't wake my husband, then in the morning, I try to decipher the sentences I wrote on top of one another.

        BTW, writer’s block is not only real but also normal. There’s even a fancy term for it: colygraphia.

 

    Happy Reading & Stay Safe

    J.S.

 

Writing with Pets by Eileen O'Finlan

 

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As people who share their homes and lives with pets can attest, their furry companions are often involved in everything that goes on at home. For me, that includes writing. My two cats, Smokey (now a Rainbow Bridge Angel Kitty) and Autumn Amelia even inspired my latest book, All the Furs and Feathers. In some ways, they helped me write it since I often took my cues from their personalities.

It's one thing to pay attention to the pets, think about how they might respond given various fictional situations, and put it in a story. It's quite another to have them physically involved while trying to write that (or any other) story.

About a year ago, I became a Rover.com sitter and began boarding small dogs in my home for weekends while their pet parents were away. Two of them, Chewy and Bruce Lee have become regular clients. They are getting used to me spending time on my laptop while they are staying with me, though if a writing session runs too long in their estimation, they make their feelings known and cut it short. However, the last time they were at my house, Bruce Lee decided that rather than trying to drag me away from my writing, he'd help out. Here's how that went:

Does this mean he's now co-author on my next novel?

Not to be outdone by the dogs, Autumn Amelia has been spending more and more time huddle as close as she can get to my laptop whenever I'm working on it, inching ever closer to the keyboard. A strict editor, she keeps a close eye on my writing. I can tell when she thinks her editing skills are needed. Here, let me show you in pictures how that progresses:

Autumn settles in, ready to start assessing my current writing session.

Hmm...this could use some help.

Autumn thinks she can write it better so she takes over

It's well-known that pets bring us many joys and having them in our lives offer a number of benefits. Who knew writing help was one of them!

Hatfield House by Rosemary Morris

 

Hatfield House

Part One

A Brief history.

 

When I write classic, historical, romantic fiction I am inspired by visits to places of historical interest. Hatfield House within easy reach of my house, close to where I live, always provides ample fuel for inspiration and imagination.

Starlington at en wikipedia.

When Henry VIII appropriated the original house completed, at the end of the fifteen century by the Bishop of Ely, he frequently used it to accommodate his children. From the tower above the Banqueting Hall to the west of the current building, Henry’s older daughter, Mary, waved to him after he had divorced her mother, Catherine of Aragon, but he rode past without acknowledging her. After his second wife, Anne Boleyn’s execution, his younger daughter lived there without the necessary clothes to keep her decent. Later her relationship with her father improved and she lived happily at Hatfield House with her brother, Edward. After her father and her brother’s deaths, the roman catholic queen Elizabeth’s half-sister Mary, kept her at the house in splendid isolation and tried to force her to renounce the Church of England for the Roman Catholic faith.

In 1558, while Elizabeth sat under an oak tree in the park reading a book, she received news of Queen Mary’s death and said, It is the Lord’s doing and it is marvellous in our eyes. She summoned William Cecil, subsequently Lord Burghley. After Queen Elizabeth’s death, King James preferred Theobald, the residence of William’s son Robert, and exchanged it with him for Hatfield House. Robert enjoyed building and in 1608 pulled down three sides of the old house and built the magnificent new one which is still owned by the Cecil family.      

 

https://bwlpublishing.ca/morris-rosemary

www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

Character Inspiration #3: Prairie Fire by Julie Christen

This is more about being humbled (which in turn led to inspiration) by several people during one moment in time. It was the event that lit the spark within me for the NokotaⓇ horses. And that spark became a flame that continues to burn like a prairie fire in me.

MN Horse Expo. State Fairgrounds. I go every year. Faithfully. It’s like Horse Christmas. All things horses - shopping, clinicians, exhibitions, classes, and breed demonstrations. My favorite is the breed demonstrations. Each breed at the Expo gets about 10 minutes in the coliseum to show off their best “breed standard” qualities. Many of the stables put on quite a fine show. Some come out in great numbers and perform a drill team routine set to thrilling music. Others have several riders come out advertising the wide variety of disciplines their breed is capable of performing. Western, English, hunter/jumper, dressage, driving - you name it. Their outfits are smart and sharp or showy and flowy. An announcer reads a script provided by each breed’s representative which covers a bit of history and breed descriptions.

One year, however, which I’m inclined to say (and not lightly so), changed my life. It also earned me my “Most Humbling Moment Award” when the Nokota horses, and the people behind them, won my heart. 

It happened over a decade ago now.

I remember like it was yesterday.

The coliseum quiets. Hooty windpipe music flutters and echoes throughout the vast coliseum. I wait for the next demonstration. My expectations are set high based on those I’ve seen so far. I look at my program. “Nokota” it says. I’ve never heard of this breed. I am anxious to learn.

And then they come in. 

It’s not organized. There are no fancy outfits. They are wild and unruly - horses and riders both. There are no saddles. No bridles. No music routine. Just pounding hooves and flying hair. And lots of it.

I am not impressed. To me, they’re doing a sloppy job of showing off their breed. I can’t believe someone hasn’t fallen or hurt themselves. Plus, it seems no one has so much as run a brush over these horses, much less a comb through their manes and tails. They all look shaggy and rough. Again, horses and riders both.

The worst part, though, is me. Deep down, behind my Judgy Judgerson attitude, especially since I am no great rider myself, I am secretly, inexplicably, ashamedly jealous. 

I look around the crowd to see if anyone else is reacting like I am reacting to this train wreck display. Not one. 

So I look again. 

And this time, I look hard at the chaos happening in the arena. And I listen. 

I hear the announcer tell their story - their heartbreaking, inspiring, historic story of strength, honor and hope. I listen intently to the details of two brothers - Frank and Leo Kuntz - giving their lives to preserve the future of these descendents of Sitting Bull’s war ponies. I hear the hooves pound an earthy rhythm that seeps into my very being. I hear it said that you don’t choose a Nokota, the horse chooses you - they are searching for their person. I hear the riders whoop happily to each other and to their horses. And at some point, some moment in time that feels vague yet is anchored with clarity in my mind, it all begins to flow in slow motion right before my eyes. 

Wild beauty. Friendships. Partners. Play. Joy. Trust. Love.  Horses and riders both.

The manes and tails are couriers of the North Dakota prairie wind. Their strong, feathered legs perform athletic feats, twisting and turning at the whims of their riders. They stand, still as stone, as their riders climb to their feet confidently, almost haughtily, onto their backs. Then take off like shots when their riders pop back down. Their spirit is palpable. They are doing a PERFECT job representing this breed and all of its most special qualities. I am ashamed at how quickly I judged. 

And now, I am in awe. It washes over me in a wave of emotion that tingles on my skin, then pounds in my heart, and finally … brings tears to my eyes.

Again, I look around to see if anyone else is reacting as I am. Not one. This moment is just for me. To do with as I see fit. So from that moment forward, I decided to learn and learn and learn about these horses, their story, their people. 

And so began my love affair. 

And so it continues today. 

Years later, I discovered that some of those wild riders were Frank Kuntz’s daughters. And never did I imagine at the time that I would one day be a part of their Nokota family. Two horses from their herd, Red Eagle and RainyDay, have found their person in my husband and me. I am blessed.

In Nokota Voices, I’ve transformed this memory into fictional form, which you will hopefully read for yourself someday. Maybe the Prairie Fire girls will light a flame in you!

To learn more and to order your copy of Nokota Voices, check out my website and BWL Author Page.

Here’s to good people doing good things. Enjoy the ride!

Writer on the Move by Diane Bator

https://bwlpublishing.ca/bator-diane/

A writer on the move. That sums up my life about now.

For anyone who has ever wished they could run away from their lives and go somewhere else to start a new life…I’m living your dream!

In all the midst of promoting my latest book, All That Shimmers, I’ve also been packing to move across Canada. Who knew I had so many copies of my own books for events and whatnot let alone friend’s books and my TBR pile? You know you have a problem when you plan to take more books than kitchen accessories!

Now that the kids are grown and doing their own great things, and a few other things haven’t gone the way I’d hoped, it seemed like a good time to hit the road and “go back home.” Yup, I said it. It won’t be a Hallmark movie. I guarantee that. There was no high school sweetheart. No guy I left—or who left me—at the altar.

I’m looking forward to going back to see family and old friends.

To spend time writing without other responsibilities for a little while. Until a new job comes along, that is! A writer needs to eat and pay rent, you know.

And feed their adoring cats!

Ash and Jazz, my furry companions whom I’ve dubbed the Hallelujah Chorus, will be joining me. To date, they don’t travel well. My hope is that after an hour on the road they’ll give up singing and take a nap. After 8 hours in the car, they might plot my death once we reach the hotel though.

I used to be afraid of so many things in life. Death, taxes, driving the 401 freeway in Ontario, but after all the changes I’ve had to deal with in the past few years I’m ready for a challenge. In the past couple weeks, I’ve done some interesting things:

· Bought a new-to-me car.

· Rented a new apartment sight unseen.

· Packed everything I own and figuring out how to Tetris it all into my new-to-me car.

· Said goodbye to friends and co-workers, some I’ve known for nearly 18 years, worked with, wrote with, and trained with.

· Mapped out a route to drive 3300ish kilometers across the country alone over 5 days with 2 cats and staying in 4 hotels.

· Scanned hundreds of journals, school photos, family photos and the like so I have less paper to move.

· Learned how to use the cool new features of said new-to-me car.

· Took about a thousand deep breaths and wondered if I was doing the right thing—only to have more things happen to remind me that I have great things awaiting. I’ll be able to share more of those down the road.

In the meantime, there’s more packing and scanning to do and cat stuff to prepare.

Then I’ll set out for my drive across Canada.

I’ll let you know how it goes!

Diane

https://bwlpublishing.ca/bator-diane/