Going Away to Write

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March 1, 2019 will mark the first anniversary of the release of my debut novel, Kelegeen.  Much of this year has been spent on a very steep learning curve, one that included educating myself on the publishing industry and, even more so, on marketing. It was obvious I didn’t know what I was doing, so I hired a marketing firm to guide me.  They’ve been extremely helpful, but I still had to do the work of putting my book and myself out there.  It’s been a great experience, one that is ongoing, as I’ve only skimmed the surface.  The problem is it hasn’t left me with much time to write.  My 9:00 – 5:00 day job, teaching online courses for the University of Dayton, and caring for my 92 year old mom who lives with me along  with various other responsibilities and obligations on top of my new marketing tasks has eaten up what little free time I had before this adventure ever began.

When it comes to my writing, the most common question I’m asked these days is, “when will the sequel be out?”  My answer is usually a non-committal “working on it.”  It seems I’ve been in the historical research phase forever.  That’s not just because there’s a large amount of research to be done, but because I’m not finding the time to do it.  I knew something had to give.  An overwhelming desire to get away from every distraction and ensconce myself somewhere that would allow me to laser focus on the sequel drove me to find a solution.

Enter my cousin, Patty.  Patty is retired, her children grown, and her mate fully capable of taking care of their dogs on his own for a week.  Patty is also very fond of my mom and lately has been repeatedly expressing a desire to visit her.  So, in one of my hair-pulling moments of frustration at not having time to research or write, Patty’s genial, smiling face flashed into my mind. 

I texted Patty, laying out my plan before her.  If she could come down for a week (she lives in Vermont) and stay with my mom, I could use some of my vacation time from work and go away to write.  She loved the idea.  Mom loved the idea.  I’m head-over-heels in love with the idea.  It didn’t take long to find a time that worked for all of us, so I quickly booked a weeklong stay at a studio suite in a local hotel. 

Before this month is over, I will have spent a week doing nothing but research and writing.  That entire week will be all sequel, sequel, sequel.  No distractions, no other responsibilities.  No, I won’t be able to write an entire novel in a week, but I do expect to make serious inroads on both the research and the writing.  Once I get that fully underway, I hope to be able to run with it from there on out.

Though I’m all too well versed in Murphy’s Law and the best laid plans of mice and writers, I am hopeful.  As long as all goes according to plan, or at least close to it, my post next month should be all about what an awesome, productive week I had.

A Perfect Day For A....Suicide?

                     

 

 

It is a Saturday February morning, 8:30 AM, and the crisp cobalt blue sky announces another perfect day for iceboating.

So, reader, I can see that quizzical look on your face: iceboating? Yes. Iceboating is the sport, some say the disease, of sailing at indecent speeds on ice in a wooden fuselage 12 feet long equipped with three steel blades called runners, and propelled by the wind alone.
My friends and I have spent the day before whizzing around on Lake St. Louis, near Pointe Claire, Quebec on ice of mirror-like quality, and I’m hungry for more.

But this morning, I must first check the ice, not so much for thickness but for cracks, as they can develop overnight and catch an unsuspecting sailor’s  front runner blade,  with ensuing disastrous consequences.

As I get out of my car near the lake on Cartier avenue, I zip up my black parka and don my brown fur hat, grab my crowbar  and start out onto the foot- thick ice. A dusting of snow covers the surface and sparkles into a myriad of diamonds in the morning sun.

I’m about 500 yards out and I find a crack, which has refrozen. I begin digging into the crack to see how thick it is with my crowbar when I hear the mournful toll of the bells of St. Joseph’s Church, off to my right.I turn to see pallbearers transferring a coffin from a hearse to a dolly, about to wheel it into the church.

I resume my digging, and shortly thereafter, satisfied the crack is safe, I head back to my car. I stop at one of the local bakeries for hot croissants and head home. After a hearty breakfast, I get my gear together and head back out back towards the launch site, where my friends and I have left our iceboats overnight.

I drive down Lakeshore Road, and moments later I’m about to turn onto Cartier avenue again towards the ice when a police woman signals me to stop. I notice there’s a strip of yellow police tape blocking off Cartier. I lower my window and ask: “What’s the problem?”

“You can’t pass,” says the petite officer.

“Why, what happened?”

“There’s been an accident. Please continue.” She waves me on.

“But I have my iceboat down there. I…”

“No one is allowed to pass.”

“Listen, just let me get my iceboat and I’ll be on my way. It will take me just a few minutes to load it onto my van.”

She seems doubtful at first, but since I look insistent, she grabs her VHF and calls her superior. After a brief exchange, she says: “okay. But make it quick.”She goes to the sidewalk, unfastens the yellow tape and waves me through.

I start driving , arrive at the end of Cartier near the lake, and my jaw drops. Alongside the pier near the ice, there are two fire trucks, one ambulance and three police cars, red and blue lights flashing. A policeman is giving orders to two firefighters, who are busy removing a ladder from their fire truck. Two medics have taken a dolly from the rear of the ambulance and are lifting its sides into place. I look towards the ice and see two firefighters next to a fiberglass toboggan at the edge of the ice. A diver in a wetsuit is standing by, and his oxygen tanks are about to get loaded onto the toboggan by another firefighter.  A policeman is standing by overlooking the whole operation.

I get out of my van and walk up to the policeman: “what’s this about? What’s happening?”

“You’ll have to ask the captain.” He turns and points to a tall man wearing a cap and giving orders to two other officers who have started unrolling a roll of yellow tape.
I walk up to the captain, who looks at me unsympathetically and says: “Oui?”
“I’ve come to pick up my iceboat” I say, pointing to my craft on the ice. What’s all this about?”

He leans over conspiratorially and says solemnly: “ C’est un suicide.”

“What?”

“Yes, a suicide,” he says, pointing out towards the frozen lake.

“But that ice is over a foot thick. And how do you know it’s a suicide?”
“Well, you see, there was a funeral this morning, and the pallbearers saw this guy out there on the ice, digging, digging… and…”

Omygod  I think, as I start to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
“..and when they came back out after the mass, he wasn’t there, so they called us.”

Oboy. “Tell me Capt., did they describe him?” I venture to ask.

“ Yes.  He was wearing a black parka, black pants and…” he stares at me intently,… “and a brown fur hat.” The captain’s brow creases into a frown as he exclaims: “ Oh ! ben tabarnak !!

(For those of you whose French is a little rusty, I assure you these are not words of endearment.)

“I was just checking the ice…” I say, almost apologetically.

Moments later, he’s barking orders at the firefighters and other policemen, and they all retreat towards their respective vehicles, pack up their gear and leave. I try to look sympathetic and not burst out laughing as the captain gets into his car, slams the door and drives off.

It turned out to be a perfect day for…. iceboating.

 

www.andrekbaby.com

 

For those of you interested in finding out more about iceboating, try googling:

 

Montreal Iceboating Association, Facebook page

New England Ice Yacht Racing Association

International DN Ice Yacht Racing Association

Ham House near Richmond Surrey by Rosemary Morris

Click on the cover to discover more about The Captain and the Countess.

Built in 1610 for Sir Thomas Vavasour, Knight Marshal to James 1st, and subsequently owned by the Duke and Duchess of Lauderdale, Ham House is now owned by the National Trust.
During my visit, I imagined the hero, Captain Howard, and the heroine, Kate, Countess of Sinclair, in my novel, The Captain and The Countess, taking the air in the magnificent formal gardens, which stretch down towards the River Thames, and treading the floors of Ham House.
I also imagined them in small rooms called closets. There are six closets at Ham House, which are more intimate than the larger ones such as the North Drawing room. One is ‘The Green Closet’ the walls hung with green damask and furnished with display cabinets that contain exquisite miniatures. Another is ‘The Private Closet’ which contains lacquered furniture, where the Duchess of Lauderdale, who inherited Ham House, kept books, tea and valuables.

www.nationaltrust.org.uk/hamhouse

Extract from The Captain and The Countess

Kate, Countess of Sinclair, attired in a pretty nightgown, sat by the fireside in her closet, where she kept money and jewelry in a strong box. Before settling down to work, she glanced around the small room crowded with chairs, a desk, sofa, bookshelves, and her sewing basket, the contents of which she occupied herself on rare occasions.
With impatient fingers, Kate sorted her correspondence: a sheaf of bills, invitations, begging letters, and other communications. After arranging them in four groups, she rose and placed them on her desk, a pretty piece of red-lacquered furniture from China inlaid with mother of pearl.

Five Star Review by N.N. Light

From the moment Captain Edward Howard lays eyes on Kate, Countess of Sinclair, he realizes he must do everything in his power to make her happy. There’s pain behind Kate’s façade and he’s determined to help her in any way he can.
Kate likes Captain Howard immediately, even when he’s forward with her and seems to disregard propriety in search of the truth. The attraction scares her, and she guards her heart against the young Captain’s desire. Her past comes calling and she must choose between what her heart wants and what society expects of her. Will she and Edward have a future or will her past continue to haunt her?
This is the first book I’ve read from Morris and I really enjoyed it. Morris is a historian at heart, and it shows in her writing. I kept pinching myself, to make sure I wasn’t in 18th century England. Every detail, from English customs to costume and speech was historically accurate. The dialogue was spot-on, and I found myself caught up in the emotional tension between the characters.
If you’re a fan of historical romance (especially Pre-Regency), you’re in for a treat with The Captain and the Countess. The writing style of Rosemary Morris is reminiscent of Edith Wharton (The Age of Innocence) and I look forward to reading more from her.

Favorite Character: Kate. I loved everything about her, from the way she carried herself in society to the way she cared for her children to the way she fell in love with Edward. She’s a victim of an abusive husband yet that didn’t stop her from living life to the fullest. A woman after my own heart.

Favorite Quote: “She was a lady without comparison, beautiful, mysterious, and vivacious. After he dined, he would take the air in Hyde Park in the hope of encountering her.”

Rosemary Morris
Best-Selling Novelist

There is a gigantic canvas for a historical novelist to choose from. My novels are set in the early 14th century during the reign of Edward II, in that of Charles II’s niece, Queen Anne Stuart, who reigned from 1702 to 1714, and the ever-popular Regency era.
I chose those periods because each of them affected the course of history. world. If Edward II had won the Battle of Bannockburn, it is feasible that he would have conquered Scotland and, perhaps he would not have been deposed. Had the Duke of Marlborough lost The War of Spanish Succession, and The Duke of Wellington had been defeated by Napoleon at The Battle of Waterloo, the history of Britain and that of Europe would be different. Defeat would also have had far-reaching consequences for the rest of the world.
The more I read about my chosen eras the more fascinated I become, and the more aware of the gulf between the past and present. Those who lived in the past shared the same emotions as we do, but their attitudes and way of life were in many ways very different to ours. One of the most striking examples was the social position of women and children in in bygone ages.
My characters are of their time, not men, women and children dressed in costume who behave like 21st century people.
Research of my chosen eras sparks my imagination. The seeds of my novels are sown, and from them sprout the characters and events which will shape their lives.



Novels by Rosemary Morris

Early 18th Century novels: Tangled Love, Far Beyond Rubies, The Captain and The Countess

Regency Novels False Pretences, Sunday’s Child, Monday’s Child, Tuesday’s Child, Wednesday’s Child and Thursday’s Child. Friday’s Child to be published in June 2019

Mediaeval Novel Yvonne Lady of Cassio. The Lovages of Cassio Book One

www.rosemarymorris.co.uk
http://bookswelove.net/authors/morris-rosemary

A Question of Salt by Katherine Pym

 Buy Here

~*~*~*~

Our Earth from Space

I am not a conspiracy theorist but I wonder if our earth has had more incarnations than previously thought. 

Our earth has vast, salty oceans, but what if, when earth had formed and cooled long before the dinosaurs, the oceans were Not salty? What if infant earth had not been saturated with this chemical compound? 

Pangaea

Perhaps, an intelligent species had settled on what is now called Pangaea more than 335 million years ago, and did not require salt to live. 

I put it before you there were other, long ago, well-formed civilizations that had prospered on this earth. There may be past civilization remnants no one will ever see due to massive changes in the environment and our landmasses. Our earth is always moving due to shifts in the tectonic plates, meteorites smashing into our oceans, and volcanoes. 

What if the advanced civilizations prior to the dinosaurs did not require salt to live? Why is science so biased this could never have happened? Because if you don’t see evidence of this, facts and hard data, it could not have been. 

Science realizes now mankind has been around a lot longer than previously thought. Buried cities are being unearthed, one of the most intriguing in Turkey today known as Göbekli Tepe. 7,000 years older than expected (and older than Egypt’s Early Dynastic Period by 8850 years), the city had been buried by its occupants. Why?

Göbekli Tepe dig

When did salt fill the oceans? Was it always there or did something happen that the chemical compound spread its crystal tentacles across the planet, sank into its oceans and penetrated deep in the land? God knows the earth has undergone massive changes over the eons. Maybe, salt came to us from outer space through an asteroid of something. What if the meteorite that killed the dinosaurs was saturated with salt and changed the earth’s entire chemical makeup?

Whatever, we require salt to live but if we ingest too much, it will kill us. Dilemma!

Ancient man learned to barter salt for revenue, goods and services. They learned to preserve food with it, live their lives around it. The Chinese discovered gunpowder trying to dig for salt. Kingdoms were built and destroyed over salt. 

Salt Mine (a nice one)

 A gift from the gods, strange beliefs survive from its importance, i.e., during the Medieval era, women salted their husbands’ genitals to make them more potent. Today, we throw salt over our shoulders. We salt our fish and make pickles with it. 

We are salt.

But have we always been?

 

~*~*~*~

Many thanks to: My thoughts and conjecture,

Salt by Mark Kurlansky, published by Penguin 2002

And Wikicommons, public domain

A Little Self Love for a Writer

Recently I edited a book written by an 82 year old man who has lived an incredible life. I can't wait to attend his book launch in April. One of the underlying themes of his story - his life story - was how he lived with the fear he was never good enough. This from a man who has amazing insights and has done amazing things in the world of Canadian dance and choreography.

So who am I compared to this extraordinary man?
First of all, I've stopped comparing myself to other people. Other writers.
I will never be like them.
I am me.

I have written many books.
I have published seven novels and submitted one more for publication.
I was a part of several anthologies.
I have published short stories in magazines.
All along, I knew all this in the back of my mind, but I've never let myself ENJOY my successes. I've always completed one project then bounced onto the next one with the drive to do more. To PROVE myself.

Prove myself to who?
To everyone in my life who ever said, "That's nice, but you should be a..."
To the guy who told me to give up and get a real job.
To the voices deep inside of me that's always told me, "You're not good enough," "You'll never get published," "You'll never be able to write full time."
Fear tells me all those things are true.
Logic dictates I keep the full-time job but write for the joy of it.

The writer in me says:

1. write
2. publish
3. take editing jobs
4. do a bit of freelance writing
5. marketing, marketing, marketing
6. surround myself with the positive - both people and inspiration

So what does a writer do to stay positive and not let the voices get her down?

1. Join a writing group. I've been a part of one for twelve years.
2. Join groups that will help with book exposure, events, information and recognition. I've joined the Crime Writers of Canada as well as Writers Community of York Region.
3. Send books to local libraries to get my name out and offer to do events.
4. Have books available in local bookstores.
5. Have an online presence.
6. Find people to review your books and host you on blogs.

So where to start? Take a deep breath, make a list, and take one baby step at a time.

Keep on reading and post a review for the books you love!

Diane Bator

Author of Wild Blue Mysteries & Gilda Wright Mysteries

Introducing:   Book4: The Painted Lady

The pieces of Christina Davidson's life have built up into place over the past few months, despite the one last secret she's trying hard to hide. When Leo Blue returns to town, then people from her past turn up, her carefully constructed walls begin to crumble and the only people who can help her now are the men of the Wild Blue Detective Agency.

Leo Blue can't escape Packham nor the life of a private detective no matter how hard he tries. Six months after the murder of artist DJ Gage, the prices of Gage's paintings soar. When a woman winds up dead and a forgery is discovered in the local art gallery, Leo has to find a murderer and a forger.

Writing Contests: bad or good? by J. S. Marlo

J. S. Marlo BWL Author Page

During my exciting and scary journey toward publication, I traveled many roads. I first ventured into the submission path from where I sent my manuscript to dozens of publishers, most of them through snail mail. Over the following months I received acknowledgement letters, then rejection letters. Some were the standard "we're sorry to inform you--" printed rejection letters, while others were nice handwritten rejections. Still, the result was the same. Thanks but no thanks.

I'd received responses from about half the publishers when a friend and fellow unpublished author sent me a link to a free contest. A new publishing company was about to open its virtual door and it was looking for authors. My friend hadn't finished her manuscript yet, but she thought I might be interested. There were a few obstacles, the biggest one being the deadline. The contest ended at midnight that evening and it was already 6pm. I read the rules. They wanted an email with my name, and the first three and last three pages of my manuscript. Nothing else. No synopsis. No blurb. No bio. And most importantly, it was open to unpublished authors.
 
Getting a first contract is a lot like getting a first job. In order to get the job, you need experience, but you can't get experience unless someone gives you a job. Likewise, many publishers will only accept submissions from published authors or agents, and agents won't take you as a client unless you're a published author. You gotta love catch-22.

Back to the contest... I didn't have much time to think about it, but I figured there could be no harm sending six pages out of three hundred, so I sent it--and forgot about it. A month later, the publisher emailed me back saying I was one of twenty semi-finalists. She now wanted to read the entire manuscript, and if she liked it she would offer me a three-year contract and publish it in ebook. I only had a few days to answer. Well, all the questions I didn't have time to ask a month earlier flooded my mind. The first one being: is that new publisher real? It's hard to find information on a company that isn't in business yet. A nice website with the words "coming soon" under "books" was the only indication I had the company existed... Not reassuring I know.

If you browse "free writing contests", you'll stumble on a huge list. Many are free legitimate contests with legitimate prizes. So, is entering contests a good idea? First word of advice: do your homework. Make sure this is a legitimate contest. Read the fine prints. Make sure your manuscript meets the requirements. What's the prize? Is it worth your time and effort? Is there any string attached or any hidden cost associated with that contest? Like getting a free score for your manuscript only to learn you have to pay a fee if you also want to read the feedbacks from the judges.

That brings me to paid contests. Is it better to enter a contest for which you pay an entry fee? Does it make the contest more legit? Or is it a creative way to scam writers? Again, do your homework, like for a free contest, but also add the question Is it worth the money? In most cases, I'd be inclined to say No, don't waste your money. That being said, a month ago I did something I had never done before,  I entered a paid contest. Why you may ask? That's a fair question.

I stumbled on it in December. It was a short-story creative contest in which they randomly assign you a genre, a subject, and a character. Once they sent me my categories, I had seven days to write a 2,500-word-or-less original story. If I pass that first round, there is a second round, then a third. So why did I shed that money for a contest in which over 4,000 writers participated and I have zero chances of winning? Had I had any glimpse of hope of winning, it would have vanished the moment I received my categories. Genre: sci-fi. Subject: exotic pet. Character: interior designer.

Let's be honest here. I write romantic suspense. My idea of a short story is 45,000 words. I wrote one sci-fi story in my life. Back then I was in grade 8, it was a fanfic (I'm fairly certain the term fanfic hadn't been coined yet), I typed it on an old-fashioned typewriter (that was before home computer), and I shared it with my friends during math class. The only pet to ever make it in one of my stories was a cute little terrier by the name of Snowflake who got lost in a snowstorm, and I based her character on my granddoggie. That's as exotic as I got. And an interior designer? That wasn't an occupation I had ever considered for any of my characters. My chances to make it to round two? Slim to none.

So, did I enter for a chance to win money, a publishing package, writing software, and get a detailed critique? No, I would have ended up with more money in my wallet had I not entered, I have three great publishers, my laptop has all the software it needs, and my editor provides me with plenty of critics. The thing is, I started a new novel over the summer. I should already have finished it, but in mid-August, big changes happened in my personal life--good changes, great changes--but changes that affected my ability to write. Basically, these changes took away my writing time--until last week.

Last week was also when I was scheduled to write that short sci-fi story. The contest forced me to get that writing time back--and write. And I wrote that short story in 36 hours. Am I happy with the result? It's not bad for a 2,400-word sci-fi with an exotic pet and an interior designer  😂 but most importantly, it got me writing again. After I finished it, I went back to my summer novel and finished another chapter. So why did I pay money to enter that contest? To get that creative juice flowing and to whip me into writing again! For me, at that precise moment in my life, it was worth the money. Granted, a kick where I sit might have been a cheaper alternative, but probably not as productive.

Now you may wonder what happened to that new publisher's contest...

Sending six pages was one thing, but the entire manuscript to a self-proclaimed new publisher I knew nothing about entered a different category. I'd heard stories about writers who shared their manuscripts with a critique group only to see their stories stolen and published under a different title by someone else. I'll admit I was scared and suspicious. After all, that publisher had only read six pages. At the time I didn't fully comprehend the power my few pages  might hold. In the end, I emailed my manuscript (and kept a copy of the email). I figured I had nothing to lose since all I was getting were rejection letters...or worse, no letters at all. A few weeks later, I was offered a contract for my novel and assigned to an awesome editor who took me under her wing. Unfortunately, the publisher closed its door a few years later, but then my editor dragged me with her to a different publisher where I published more books. My gamble in that new publisher had paid off. Thanks to that contest, I became a published author, and from there, doors that might have remained closed began to open.

There are lots of good writing contests out there for published and unpublished authors. Don't shy away from them, but be careful and selective. They are not all created equal.

Happy reading & writing! And good luck!
 JS

 J. S. Marlo's Website

Welcome to February - the Month for Lovers

 

If you haven't visited our Canadian Historical Brides Blog 

February is the perfect month to meet all the Brides

Since February has long been regarded as the month for lovers, it seems only fitting that here at BWL we make this the month for celebrating our historical and time travel romances.

 

BWL PUBLISHING'S FEBRUARY RELEASES