A Romance Parody. You Were Supposed to Laugh, by Diane Scott Lewis

 

To purchase this book, called "a worthwhile read (and nice change of pace)." ~ Long and Short Reviews, click HERE

If you like parodies, and funny romps through the 18th c., you'll enjoy my story where I poke fun at the tropes of romance novels. At least if you take it with a grain of salt.

I read many historical romance novels and usually found the formula, boy meets girl, they immediately fall in love, trouble ensues, but love and lust conquers all, contrived. I wanted to pen more believable stories, with long simmering attractions. But first, given the parodies of the popular Fifty Shades of Grey, I had to combine the usual tropes of this genre and have some fun.

Here is an excerpt: (Melwyn and Griffin are betrothed, but neither wants the match. He confronts her in the Vauxhall Gardens)

The chit’s wrist felt sparrow-thin in his hands. Griffin glared down at her, as she stared up, raspberry ice cream on her lips. At first startled, she didn’t scream and composed herself quickly; he had to admire that.

“How is your sojourn in London, my lady? A sudden urge to travel, had you?” Griffin smiled at the rising anger in her blue eyes.

“How dare you follow me, sir. And drag me into bushes.” Miss Pencavel pulled away from him, chin jutted out. “I told you my wishes in Cornwall. You have wasted your time if you’re here to change my mind.”

“Truth is, I did have business in town, so it’s not a total waste.” He rocked back on his heels, arms now behind his back. His actions were irrational, and totally alien to his usual demeanor. “You intrigue me, Miss Pencavel, such as a wasp might intrigue one. You wonder how close you may hover before being stung.”

He baited her, and enjoyed it. This slip of a girl provoked him, and that was disconcerting. Most females he understood as connivers or simpletons. Miss Pencavel appeared to be neither. Her eyes shone with an innate intelligence. Why had he followed her into the garden—while he had to admit that he’d searched for any sign of her in town—when he had little use for marriage? A wife like her would only get in his way.

Thomas Rowlandson 1780s, "Entrance to Vauxhall Gardens"

 
“I assure you, you will feel my sting.” She backed up a step and took another bite of her dessert. “You said cruel things about my mother. Even if they were true, you were still despicable.”

“I must apologize; I should have waited until I knew you better before being so straightforward.” He softened his words as a twig crackled under his buckled shoe. “But are you like your mother, partial to servants and other low-lifes?”

“I might be partial to whoever takes my fancy, a sailor, a groom, a particularly handsome nightsoil man.” She scrutinized him closely. “I’ve heard you have sinister inclinations, not that such things would bother me, being the free-thinking person I am, but I’d rather not be troubled with you.”

Griffin pondered what she really knew. He decided to deride her, to nudge her off-balance. He resisted the urge to brush a stray leaf from her cheek. “Are you already ruined, my girl, is that why you shy away?”

“I have been in various positions where I might have been ruined, but not in that compromising position I know nothing about, and you no doubt insinuate.” She licked her spoon, slowly.

'

"Beer Street and Gin Lane" by William Hogarth 1751

Many reviewers took offence at my fun-poking, but it was not meant to be taken seriously. My book club thought it hilarious.

For more on me and my books, visit my BWL author's page

https://bwlpublishing.ca/lewis-diane-scott/

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with one naughty dachshund.

'Crabbed age and youth'...by Sheila Claydon

Find my books here

In a poem attributed to him, William Shakespeare said 'Crabbed age and youth cannot live together.' He was right about so many things but not about this, well at least from my perspective. Why do I feel this way? Well, although I sincerely hope I'm not crabbed, I am definitely aged. This means that I now have regular help with my garden and my house. Not a lot, but enough for me to no longer have to tackle the heavy jobs.

In the past 6 months my longtime gardener has retired and the woman who helped with the house has left to have a baby. So now, instead of seasoned experts, I have two young people helping me instead. My new gardener is 21 and just setting himself up in business. The cleaner 23. Both work hard but this is where the crabbed age bit could come in if I let it, because neither of them have enough experience to get everything right.

When I asked the gardener to clear the weeds that had grown up around my very small pond, he cleared everything leaving a patch of bare earth. That was when I discovered that his 5 year apprenticeship was in landscape gardening not horticulture and he didn't know a weed from a flower. Not the best recommendation for a gardener I know, but he wasn't aware of the difference and now he wants to learn. So while he does the heavy stuff, I teach him about the plants in the garden I have planted and nurtured over many years. As a bonus he has done a brilliant job of rebuilding the pond, re-laying paving stones and moving large plants, all things that needed his landscaping skills. And now we are working together I've learned all about his brothers and his parents, his dog and its recent operation, his hobbies (cage fighting...the mind shudders) and now, his new girlfriend and his plans for the future.

Then there is the cleaner. When she first arrived she seemed shy so, in true writerly fashion, I asked questions, hoping to put her at ease. That was when I discovered she is a student who is working to pay her way through university. She already has a Degree in computer science and is now studying for a Masters in Data Collection using Artificial Intelligence. Wow! I don't know how long I'll keep her as there must be a much more exciting future career out there for her, but in the meantime I'm learning quite a bit about the uses of AI while she learns some of the finer points of housekeeping. Because a 23 year old graduate who is still studying isn't ever going to be the best I consider a forgotten window or an unplumped cushion a small price to pay for our interesting conversations. So far I've learned about the use of AI in medical care, specifically the lungs, and in return she's learned how to clean windows without streaks, and how an expandable feather duster works wonders! Not a fair exchange really but it's all I had to offer other than my great admiration for how she is managing her life.

And in addition to those two I have my granddaughters, all of whom are moving forward with dreams and ambitions. A trainee vet, a college student whose final exams are almost over and is going to take a gap year, working behind a bar in addition to bringing on her young horse, while she decides what she actually wants to do, and finally a younger one just about to start senior school. They don't get to hear much about their grandmother. Instead they tell me all about their adventures, what thrills them and what bothers them.In this way I have learned a great deal about the inner workings of a horse, some rather grusome facts behind lambing large flocks, and the ethics of animal care. I've learned, too, how to mix an espresso cocktail and a mini Guinness. And the youngest one has taught me faster and better ways to use my Ipad and phone as well as how to catch mosquitos and the future of the world relating to climate change. Such a mixed and interesting bag!

We have young neighbours too, all of whom we like a lot and see regularly. So my take on Shakespeare's 'Crabbed age and Youth' quote is that old people won't ever get crabby if they open themselves up to living with the young. They have so much to tell us if we truly listen. And they are such fun.

My book Many a Moon, the third in my Mapleby Memories series, also includes relationships between the old and the much younger, and how wisdom can be exchanged for vitality and interest. Crabbed old age! Pah!

Spring...It's Spring! by Nancy M Bell

 

To find out more about my books click on the image above.   

It's finally Spring here in Central Alberta. I know that on the west coast the trees are in blossom and the tulips and daffs are glowing. It seems Spring comes to different parts of Canada at different times for sure. In Southern Ontario the lilacs and tulips would be blooming by Mother's Day and the peonies wouldn't be far behind. Here, my peonies don't bloom until late June or early July. 

It's raining today on the dry dusty prairies. Which is cause for joy. It has been dry for so long, even the snow melt was whisked away by the strong winds. The top six inches of soil needs to be moist so the crops can germinate and flourish. In comparison to the growth of wheat, barley and canola my little garden worries are pretty tiny. Besides, I can water my garden, without irrigation pivots and a water source it's pretty hard to water hectares of grain crop. So today, I'm doing the happy dance for the rain and for Spring.

The Mayday tree in the yard has come fully leafed over the last week and the tiny flower spikes are waving in the breeze, soon to break out into white spiky florets that will attract the honey bees and the birds. Hollyhocks are  the first to brave the uncertainty of a Central Alberta Spring and they are raising their broad leaves to the sun and rain, fighting off the strong winds. Rhubarb is growing in the northeast corner of the yard which gets the most early sun in the year. It will actually be ready to harvest a bit soon. It will be so nice when the fruit trees here blossom and the lilacs by the house scent the air.

Birds are everywhere, fighting over seeds and nesting materials. And, I saw my very first Sandhill Cranes this Spring. They were migrating and I came across a flock of them twice. I had to do a double take as I assumed they were geese at first, but nope. Cranes! They sound different as well when they fly, but the ones I saw were earthbound scavenging in a grain field. I am so used to the sound of Canada Geese which is what I encountered at our old house. But here, the Grey Geese and swans go through and their voices are all different to my ears. 

So wherever you are and whatever stage your Spring is at.... Enjoy the transition from winter into Spring and the lengthening days. We are climbing the slope of Light up to the Solstice which is when we begin the slow slide back toward the longest night in December. Cherish your journey, because it is yours alone.

Until next month stay well, stay happy.

      

The garden by Janet Lane Walters #BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #Garden #Peonies #Roses

 

Before I talk about my garden this is the new cover for the double book Leo - Aquarius and Virgo- Pisces. The new covers are great.

Now the garden. I have roses and peonies and a dogwood tree that are now all in bloom. The dogwood tree grew much taller than was predicted when I planted the tree. The soil must have been really rich. I was told the tree might grow to ten feet tall. It is now  between thirty and fourty feet tall. Today the green is turning white with the blooms and this is a grand sight. 

As usual, the peonies went from small buds to full flowers and as happens every eyar, they bloomed and it rained. Not sure why but that happens nearly every year.

The roses went from tight buds to full flower. They are in full bloom but they will remain that way for all summer. Actually two of the bushes continue to bloom through the fall and occasionally into winter depending on how cold the weather becomes and how early or late.

I have a large front porch and sitting out when it's warm is one of my favorite things. I've written parts of many of my books while sitting on the white wicker swing.

Are you a curmudgeon? by J.C. Kavanagh

 

To purchase your copy of the award-winning Twisted Climb series,
including the audio version, click here:
https://www.bookswelove.net/kavanagh-j-c/

I've been delving into the infinite realm of human personalities these past couple of weeks. Yes, somewhat existential, I know, but when creating characters for a novel, the author needs to pin down unique personalities so they are credibly defined to the reader. A successful author creates a kinship, so to speak, between the reader and the characters on the page.

Having said that, and without putting yourself into an iron-clad character 'cage,' if you could place yourself or people you know into a personality category, would you/they be one of the:

• Good ones
• Not-so-good ones
• Fence sitters
• Ass-hats
• Fragile ones
• Arrogant ones
• Kind ones
• Power-driven ones
• Opinionated 'swordsmen/women' who use words as daggers
• None of the above, or,
• A combination of some of the above traits

How about a curmudgeon? Are you one? Do you even know what that means? 

Here's the Webster's Dictionary definition: Curmudgeon: (noun) a bad-tempered, churlish person.

And the Oxford Canadian Dictionary definition: Curmudgeon: (noun) a bad-tempered person.

And then there's my definition: Curmudgeon: (noun) an altruistic person hiding behind a gruff exterior; a person reluctant to display his/her true character in public.

My former boss, I'll call him 'Mr. White,' was a true curmudgeon - my definition. His stern disposition was on full display at work. The fact that he was an expert in his field and in tune with the demands of the company he represented, put him on a pedestal of sorts. Colleagues appreciated the knowledge he willingly, albeit gruffly, shared. Despite this outward disposition, he was greatly respected by his peers and the owners of the companies he dealt with.

Years ago, I began writing an article about Mr. White and his long and successful career with the company. I wanted to refer to him as an 'old curmudgeon' in the article. When I asked him permission to do so, and without informing him that 'my' definition of the word curmudgeon would be included, he gazed at me intently for what seemed like minutes.

Finally, in a begrudging tone, he said "Yes." When staff and customers eventually read the article, all heads nodded in agreement. Mr. White was indeed an 'old curmudgeon.' I don't know what my old boss is up to now, but I do hope he's fulfilling all of his retirement dreams.

In my Twisted Climb trilogy, there are no 'curmudgeons.' You will find some good characters, some not-so-good, a couple of ass-hats, a drama queen and many more unique individuals. Some characters you'll love, others, not so much. However, in my upcoming paranormal novel, entitled "The Deepest Divide," I would definitely describe one of the main characters, Jimmy McQuat, as an old curmudgeon. My definition of course. And in case you're wondering how to pronounce this Scottish surname, it's Ma-koo-et.

Until next time, stay safe and don't forget to tell the ones you love that you love them.

J.C. Kavanagh, author of
The Twisted Climb - A Bright Darkness (Book 3) Best YA Book FINALIST at Critters Readers Poll 2022
AND
The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) voted BEST Young Adult Book 2018, Critters Readers Poll and Best YA Book FINALIST at The Word Guild, Canada
AND
The Twisted Climb,
voted BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers Poll
Voted Best Local Author, Simcoe County, Ontario, 2021
Novels for teens, young adults and adults young-at-heart
Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh
www.amazon.com/author/jckavanagh
Instagram @authorjckavanagh