Don't blame the pangolin, by J.C. Kavanagh

The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends 

Short-listed for Best Young Adult Book 2018,

The Word Guild

Book 2 of the award-winning Twisted Climb series

As Sheila Craydon wrote in her BWL blog on Valentine's Day, effects of the Coronavirus, or COVID-19 as it's now named ('COVI' from coronavirus and 'D' meaning disease, and '19' representing the year the first cases were reported), is being felt world-wide. Scientists and doctors are combining their research efforts to determine the source of the deadly virus. According to the Medical News Today website, Chinese-based researchers believe the virus 'host' is not a bat, which is the mammal that typically carries a coronavirus. No, they suggest that the harmless, most-poached and critically endangered pangolin is to blame. It is their belief that bats are unable to directly transmit the virus to humans and that an "intermediate animal is usually the one responsible."

You've probably said, "Pangolin? What is a pangolin?"

Pangolins are the only scale-covered mammal in the world and sadly, they are being poached to extinction. Pangolins mainly eat ants and termites, and in fact, help reduce the termite population in countries like the Philippines, China, Vietnam and Malaysia. Pangolins have no teeth and use their long sticky tongue to slurp out termites and ants from their nests. Pangolins are typically nocturnal and use their scales as a defense against predatory animals. When frightened, the pangolin will roll into a ball, using their scales as a type of armour.

A pangolin rolled in a self-defensive ball.

A baby pangolin's first outing from its nesting burrow, typically at 30 days.

A tree pangolin capturing termites from a branch.

Baby pangolins will remain with their mother for up to two years.

In many Asian countries, the scales of the pangolin are sought for alleged 'medicinal' purposes, though there is no medical support for these traditions. In addition, the pangolin meat is considered a delicacy in some countries and this spurs the illegal, black-market trade. Unfortunately, the wholesale slaughter of pangolins continues in spite of the fact that the pangolin has been described as "the most poached and trafficked mammal in the world." All species of the pangolin are on the endangered list, and many are on the road to extinction. All because of illegal trafficking.

In China and many other countries, laws have been instituted to protect the pangolin. These laws prohibit the capture, sale and/or transport of the animals. In fact, those caught selling pangolins could face up to 10 years in prison.

This, however, has not deterred the black market pangolin trade. 

In the city of Wuhan, China, where COVID-19 originated in a seafood and wild animal market, it is believed that the virus transmitted from a host animal to humans. Researchers are still investigating if the source was a bat which transmitted to a pangolin and then to humans. However, since the first human case was treated late December 2019, the virus has been transmitted directly from human to human. What researches haven't proved, though, is if there were pangolins sold illegally at the Wuhan market. No one has (yet) come forward to admit they sold live/dead pangolins. Doing so, though, would be of significant benefit to determining if the pangolin was the virus' intermediate 'host.'

Is the pangolin really to blame for COVID-19? Or is it the greed of black-marketers, combined with human indifference to the potential extinction of a mild-mannered, toothless, ant-eating animal. Would there be human transmission of the virus if the pangolin was not used as bush meat and nonsensical medicine? I'm not a scientist, so I don't know. But maybe this is nature's way of saying, to paraphrase Pink Floyd, "Hey, people, Leave the pangolins alone!"

The eight species of Pangolin, found from Asia to Africa and the Philippines.

February 17 is World Pangolin Day. According to Wikipedia, pangolin populations have decreased by up to 75 per cent in some countries. In 2017, almost 12 tons of pangolin SCALES were confiscated from a ship in China. The year before, a ship grounded near the Philippines was found to have 10,000 kilograms of pangolin meat rotting in its cargo hold.

I have been fascinated by pangolins since 2014 when I first read a CNN article about their potential extinction. In the meantime, I've written five children's picture books and a movie script about the adventures of Mama Pangolin and her wee son Foleydota. (These books have not yet found a publisher as BWL publishes text, not pictures!) However, to promote knowledge of the pangolin, I've included it in my Twisted Climb series of books. Young Georgia's favourite stuffed animal is a baby pangolin that she cradles in her arms each night before bed. Of course, the stuffie is made with a velvety outer fabric that is perfect for caressing and holding so tenderly.

I'll finish this blog by paraphrasing an old Coca-Cola commercial: Let's live in harmony.

 J.C. Kavanagh

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

Novels for teens, young adults and adults young at heart

Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com

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Twitter @JCKavanagh1 (Author J.C. Kavanagh)

Weird Apps

Most of us use apps—those digital applications, downloaded on our cellphones, to help us order a pizza from our favorite fast-food joint, track appointments or manage our finances.  The number and variety of apps have mushroomed over the past decade. Many of them are useful, such as the one from your local transit department which lets you when the next bus is coming. Others, however, are only mildly useful, and a few, truly bizarre. Here, then, are ten apps that will leave you shaking your head:

1)      Nothing. Yes, Nothing. You press the Nothing icon on your phone and nothing happens. Nothing is free, but a premium version (which still does nothing) costs a whopping $0.99.

2)      Hold On. As the name implies, the idea is to keep pushing down on the app for as long as you can. A little timer pops up and lets you know how long you’ve been holding on. But, Why?

3)      I am Rich. Designed for rich people to make them feel good about how much money they have. At $400 a pop, I am Rich is definitely not for the poor.

4)      Fake Conversation. Ever want to desperately leave a boring meeting or a bad date? Fake Conversation will send you a fake phone call from a doctor, layer or even a magazine editor. The app will tell you what to say; you repeat it, and everyone around will be convinced you have a real emergency on your hands.

5)      Ghost EMP Meter. Yup. Your smartphone will sniff out pesky spirits and lingering apparitions. Note: It may not work if your smartphone itself is demon-possessed.

6)      Drunk Dial NO. This actually may be useful. The app allows you to enter the phone numbers of people you should not call when drunk (think: your ex or your boss.) It will hide those numbers for a period of forty-eight hours, long enough for your sober side to reassert itself.

7)      Binky. For totally random people. Binky will send you an endless stream of completely unconnected random stuff which you can browse or resend. Being totally pointless, it faithfully reflects the entire digital experience.

8)      $1,000,000. The app loads images of currency (in denominations of $50 or $100) which you can count by swiping on the screen. You won’t become rich, but your fingers will feel the pleasant tiredness a real millionaire experiences when counting his money.

9)      Lick the Icicle. The app shows an icicle on your smartphone. As you start licking it, the icicle starts melting. At this point, it’s uncertain if your tongue will stick to your smartphone if you stop licking.

10)  Places I have Pooped. As the name implies, this app allows you to map every place where you have answered the call of nature. Rather than humans, it is probably more useful in helping dogs and cats mark their territories. Use your phone to help your pooch to play Places I have Pooped.

 Mohan Ashtakala is the author of “The Yoga Zapper,” a fantasy, and “Karma Nation,” a literary romance. www.mohanashtakala.com, www.bookswelove.com.

Plans are made to be broken..by Sheila Claydon

At the moment the world is on tenterhooks because of the Coronavirus. Of all my books this is the only one where an unexpected illness strikes. Why? Well probably because nobody likes to think about illness unless they have to.

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As Woody Allan once said:  If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans. Not that any of my plans were desperate or that important in the scheme of things, but I was due to be cruising around Japan at the end of March on the very ship that is now quarantined in the port at Yokohama as more and more members of its crew and passengers contract the Coronavirus. 

On top of that, the British citizens who were flown out of Wuhan, the centre of the epidemic, have been quarantined in hospital property only 12 miles away from where I live. 

And then, of course, there is my daughter-in-law, who is Chinese. She and my little Eurasian granddaughter spent the Chinese New Year in China with family and friends. My son, who had to work, stayed at home in Hong Kong, which was just as well as he has been their only contact with the outside world for the past 14 days. Although they were very far away from the epicentre of the Coronavirus they were still required to self-quarantine when they returned home,  and my daughter-in-law has only today been allowed to return to work.

My granddaughter is still at home because her school has been closed since Christmas and will not reopen until 4 March at the earliest. Also most of her friends have either left Hong Kong for a perceived safety with family elsewhere, or have not returned from the Christmas holidays they were celebrating somewhere else in the world, so with no school and few friends to play with, it is fortunate that she loves to draw, write, make things, help cook, and also do the homework she receives every week by email.

From a different perspective, however, some of what is happening is very interesting. My son, who works in change management in businesses in Hong Kong, is having to adapt his own work practice whilst also helping other people to cope with working from home. Culturally, home working is not the norm in Hong Kong and this, together with the very limited size of its family apartments, means that the forced confinement is having a deep psychological effect on many people.  Apartments in Hong Kong are on average the smallest in the world (484 sq ft). Many of these are homes to more than three people. As a comparison, the average one-bed flat size in Manhattan, New York, is 716 sq ft while in London it is 550 sq ft. Because I regularly help edit his various presentations and papers, it means I am able to be part of the whole thinking around the effects of Coronavirus on business around the world...not something I would have chosen given how it is affecting and frightening so many people, but interesting nevertheless.

So here I am, living in a coastal village in the North West of England, miles away from any major centre, in a place of clean beaches and fresh, unpolluted air, and yet, because of globalisation, I am still caught up in the world-wide effects of the Coronavirus. It is a strange, strange world.

Now all I have to do is to send the medical face masks I've managed to buy in the UK over to my family in Hong Kong because there the shops have sold out altogether, and without a mask nobody goes out! In usual circumstances China makes 20 million face masks a day and Chinese people use them regularly both as a protection against traffic pollution and when they have a cold or cough which they don't want to pass onto other people. Now, however, production has fallen and people are panic buying. Fortunately we still have plenty in the UK where wearing them is not the norm at all. Who is to say when that will change, however. In the meantime we can spare some where they are needed most.

In my son's words at the end of his recent advisory leaflet to Hong Kong employees working from home for the first time: until it's over and we can all relax, work well and stay healthy.

Kindness Never Wasted

coming in April!

shortlisted for Laramie and Chatelaine Awards!

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Located in the middle of the St. Lawrence River lies the island Grosse Isle. It was once the main point of entry for immigrants coming to Canada. On the island was a quarantine station. The year 1847 (“Black ’47”) was the worst year of the Irish Great Hunger, brought in approximately 110,000 migrants to Canada. Nearly 90,000 landed at Grosse Isle. 

An Irish Farewell, 1840

About one out of every six migrants did not make it through that year. They died in the filthy holds of “coffin ships,” in crowded tents on the quarantine islands or in port cities. Most succumbed to typhus.

newspaper account

By year’s end, thousands of children had become orphans. No one is sure of the exact number as many were informally placed out and left no trace in the records. 

Over half the orphans were placed with French Canadian families, many in the countryside. Some were treated merely as farm hands. But some of the adoptive parents were self-sacrificing and expressed love and respect while they urged the children to keep their Irish surnames and preserve their Irish heritage. The descendants of these Irish Canadians have become accomplished in many walks of life. They include artists and musicians, politicians, writers and scientists.

memorial to the fallen on Grosse Isle

My friend Paulinus Healy, chaplain of the Toronto Airport, first told me the infinitely sad story of the fallen of Grosse Isle and the wonderfully redemptive one of the French Canadian families who took the orphans into their homes and hearts. “You’ll write about it some day, “ Paulinus predicted.  I have in my April 2020 historical novel, Mercies of the Fallen.  Sergeant Rowan Buckley is a Grosse Isle orphan taken in by three French Canadian sisters. When the American Civil War breaks out, he decides to head south with his neighbor, a former slave, to join the Union army.

I hope I have captured the character of fallen people, who, if shown kindness, return mercy to the world exponentially.

PS -- As February is romance month, Books We Love authors are offering excerpts from their contemporary romances, romantic suspense and paranormal romances on the BWL free reading club. Check it out and join today at https://www.facebook.com/groups/BooksWeLovebookclub/

I Embrace Winter - Sort Of

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This winter, I've had the opportunity to attend Winterlude in Ottawa, Canada, the seventh coldest capital city in the world, according to WorldAtlas. Rather than huddle indoors, Ottawa region residents embrace the season each year with a festival spanning three weekends in early February. The focal point is the world's largest skating rink, running 7.8 km. along the Rideau Canal from downtown to Dow's Lake recreational area.

My husband and I stayed near Dow's Lake. When the Skateway opened, we headed out to the lake, eager to glide along the ice. We hadn't skated in ten years. I laced up my skates, took a step  - and retreated to the bench. Ice is slippery. Skate blades are too thin the for support. I don't want to fall and break a bone. My skating career ended, I consoled myself with a Beavertail. These pastries, sold at shacks on the canal, are fried dough in the shape of Canada's national animal's tail topped with anything imaginable. I usually get the Killaloe Sunrise, with cinnamon, lemon and sugar that brings out the flavour of the dough. The calories keep you warm in winter.

Hazelnut spread, peanut butter and Reece's Pieces on a Beavertail. As a true Canadian, I want to try maple someday. 

  

Beavertails Mascot at dragon boat races

Other highlights of Winterlude include dragon boat races on the frozen lake, snow slides in a park on the Quebec side of the river, and an international ice carving contest. Ottawa's fickle winter weather played havoc with the sculptures this year. A mild spell a few days after the carving competition ruined the ice statues' delicate features.

A carver at work on downtown Sparks Street. 

Sound travel tunnel on Sparks Street.

When I wasn't outside 'doing' winter in Ottawa, I worked on my murder mystery novel-in-progress, set in winter in my home town of Calgary. My victims go for a walk on the coldest night of the year and are struck by a hit and run driver. The wife is killed and the husband is seriously injured. Was it an accident caused by icy roads or intentional? Paula, my sleuth, asks the husband why they were out on such a miserable night. He answers that they love the silence when no one else is around, the exercise in brisk air, and the shimmering street lights on snow and bare-limbed trees. But for him and his wife that night, embracing winter turned deadly.   

                                                                  Night view from my Ottawa bedroom

Song Lyrics & Grammar Goofs by Karla Stover

              


I mostly listen to talk radio while driving, but all too often something catches my interest and my brain goes off on a tangent. Recently, it was a program discussing the current lack of variety in music. I wouldn't know about that as far as contemporary music goes, but I do know a lot of lyrics have grammar errors, and when I hear or remember one of those songs, I try fixing it (mentally, of course) in order to see if the song would be radically changed.

"I can't get no satisfaction"comes to mind. Here's part of the second verse:

                            "When I'm drivin' in my car, and the man come on the radio
                            He's tellin' me more and more about some useless information"

Why not, "comes" instead of "come?" It changes nothing that matters. Also, "the man" isn't telling about useless information, he's providing useless info. Would the song convey the same feelings if the lyrics were"

                            I don't get any satisfaction.
                            When I'm driving in my car (and including mention of the car probably isn't necessary) and a man comes on the radio / He's giving me more and more useless information.

Hmmm. Not sure the editing works.

Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA" gets right off to a bad start. "I'm proud to be an American where at least I know I'm free."  Fixing the line to "live in America" changes nothing in the sentiment.

Does Eric Clapton's "Lay Down Sally" mean he's putting Sally on a bed or something? No. he's actually telling her to lie down. Bob Dylan did something similar with "Lay Lady Lay." Tsk, tsk, and he was given a Nobel Prize for literature.

James Brown's "I feel Good" should be "I feel well." And "Ain't no sunshine when you're gone" should, of course, be "isn't any." There's also Elvis's, "Love Me Tender" but "tenderly doesn't work with the beat.

And now, my brain has digressed. I always wanted Paul Anka or Prince Charles or someone to change the words of "Diana" to "You're so young and I'm so old . . ."  And does anyone else find the lyrics to George Harrison's "My Sweet Lord" tedious? Which brings me to the Harrison Ford movie, "Witness." He sings the Sam Cooke song, "Wonderful World." Golly, even if it was Harrison Ford professing his love to me, the fact that he was such a dunce in school and couldn't remember most of what he studied, I'd wonder if he was a low-life looking for a Sugar Mama.

When I was thinking about grammar errors in song lyrics I, of course, Googled and saw that most  of these songs appear on other people's lists so it's not an original idea, but I did think about it  and them before I Googled.

It’s 3 in the morning!

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                It had been a busy day. I baked bread, did laundry, watched a basketball game and did some research for my work in progress. I was tired.
                But the minute I climbed into bed, my brain started plotting and when I couldn’t sleep, I got up and here I am, back at the computer.
                Any writer will tell you the same story. Regardless of how tired you may be or where you are, you write when inspiration strikes and that’s not always when you sit down at your desk.
                I was once driving along on my way to somewhere and had to pull off on a side road, put on my hazard lights and start jotting a scene on various stick-it notes. I had two people pull over to see if I needed help. “Not unless you know another word for antiquated,” I thought.
                I wrote on the back of a wedding invitation as the ceremony took place. It was a beautiful ceremony and I wanted to remember the feel of the day.

And let’s not forget the shower – always the place for random scene generation.           

At least with today’s technology, I can dictate emails to myself on my phone while I drive, hands free.

                You would think I could remember these flashes of inspiration for a more appropriate time and place, but no. If I don’t write down at least some sketchy notes, the thought disappears like fog when the sun rises. That’s why my work notes are not neatly typed pages in chronological order. They’re register receipts, sticky notes or paper napkins. I do sometimes  manage to write in the small notebook I keep in my purse.
                Where is the oddest place you have had to stop and write? And on what? Have those cryptically written phrases found their way into your story in exactly the same way?

Here’s to happy writing…and reading.
Barbara Baldwin

http://www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin

http://www.bookswelove.com/baldwin-barbara/

PS -- As February is romance month, Books We Love authors are offering excerpts from their contemporary romances, romantic suspense and paranormal romances on the BWL free reading club. Check it out and join today at https://www.facebook.com/groups/BooksWeLovebookclub/