A Blast From the Past by Victoria Chatham

 

AVAILABLE HERE

I'm often asked if I read outside my genre of historical romance. The answer is an unequivocal and resounding yes. Books are a feast and I devour them. I enjoy and follow my fellow Books We Love authors, but beyond that, I have a penchant for Lee Child, Jane Austen (still) and many, many more both old and new. A recent search for a much-loved book, The Old House at Railes by Mary E Pearce turned up something totally unexpected, an autobiography Good Morning.... Good Night by Tim Langley.

The only Tim Langley I had ever known was huntsman at the Berkeley Hunt where I had worked in my teens as a groom during the 1962-63 season. Could it be the same Tim Langley? Yes, it could and now I have my copy with the cover embellished with the same illustration as a birthday card I have kept for many years of Tim with the Berekeley Hounds. Tim was a real gentleman, always well turned out and polite, but definitely a character.

I never hunted, and today fox hunting is viewed through a very different lens, but I loved the hunt horses. I had three in my string: chestnut Duet who was a real sweetheart, grey Thor who had the longest back of any horse I've ever known, and Tangerine, another chestnut who never learnt to walk but jiggled and jogged along working himself into a sweat and always took forever to cool down.

Duet

This was my first home away from home and it's no wonder I now write historical fiction. Berekeley Castle was our backdrop. It has been the ancestral home of the Berkeley family since the first motte and bailey was erected at the time of the Norman Conquest. The stables were built during the time of Queen Anne (1702 - 1707) and had barely changed at all. The last window on the second floor was our bathroom, the next window along was the kitchen, and the flat apartment was shared by us four girl grooms. 

The routine was all about the horses, from getting up at 4 am for first feeds and skipping out the stables, then exercising them at 7 am for two hours. After checking their hay nets and water buckets we would have our breakfast. Then it was back to the stables for proper mucking out and grooming. Lunchtime the horses were fed again with the hay net and water bucket checks and in the afternoons we cleaned tack, swept the yard, and did whatever odd jobs needed doing. Anyone who has ever had the care of stabled horses will understand the routine of feeding little and often, taking away the waste product and generally keeping everything in order. We all took turns at the early morning starts and the ten o'clock last stables. 

After a month, when my parents came to visit me for the first time, they were so shocked they threatened to haul me home. I'd lost weight with all the extra physical work, they were appalled at our flat, and I was as happy as a cricket. I stayed. Each horse had its own character. Duet was such an obliging gentleman, Thor had a weird sense of humour as if you bent over anywhere near him he was likely to nip your backside. He also had a way of moving without you noticing 

Thor

until he had you pinned against the stable wall and would then look over his shoulder at you as much as to say "What are you going to do now?" 

After all this time I don't remember all of the horses. There was Trio, a full brother to Duet. Zulaika, who loved to watch the birds, Wexford, a big grey who was so fat when he came in after being at grass all summer that we didn't have a saddle that fit him, Doctor who had navicular disease and had to be euthanized, Big Ears (if I remember correctly her real name was Lady Jane) and a black thoroughbred called Judes Hill. 

After a day's hunting, he was always the one we had the most trouble settling down. I won't go into all the reasons this can happen, only that no one went to bed until any of the horses had calmed down, cooled down, and could be safely left. I'm not a poet, but I did write this after one particularly late night.

JUDES HILL 

Ten o’clock.
Last rounds.
Sweet smell of hay
Drifts from warm stables
Where horses shuffle, sigh,
And soft whiskery muzzles
Nuzzle goodnight.
 
But not Judes Hill.
He has been hunting today
And his thoroughbred body
Is hunting still.
Sheen of sweat on neck,
White striped face stark
Above the stable door,
He peers into the night.
 
His ears twitch this way, that.
Has he missed the plaintive
Wail of Master’s horn
Sounding ‘Gone Away’?
Was that the full cry of
Hounds in flight?
Steel strikes stone under his
Restless feet.
 
I unbuckle surcingles,
Loosen steaming rugs.
Islands of foam float
On the sea of neck,
Shoulder, flank.
On with his cooling sheet
And out into the night
We go.

We walk and walk,
This horse and I.
He stamps his feet and tosses his head,
His mane flutters like
Tattered rags against his neck.

I talk about everything
and nothing into his willing ears
until his head drops,
and the thrill of the chase
drains from his body.
Now we can rest.

From beach ponies to the hunters, from friends' horses to our much loved Arab, the books about horses that I have read and still like to read, I think you've gathered by now that I have a passion for this marvellous creature that is unlikely to ever go away. Horses appear, in one way or another, in all of my books. In historical novels how can they not? And even in my contemporary western romances, cowboys need horses. Look out for my next contemporary western, available for preorder now and releasing on June 1st.

AVAILABLE HERE

Victoria Chatham

  AT BOOKS WE LOVE

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Do your research by Dean L. Hovey

Some days I spend as much time doing research as I spend writing. That's right, I let my inner geek loose and try to nail down some obscure detail. I spent half a day watching videos of tire recapping factories to understand a detail that will make up part of one paragraph in a future book. It's an important detail and if not correct, will certainly be noticed by several readers. 

I spent a day trolling forensic entomology websites to determine what types of insects are found with a body decaying in the trunk of a car. That was tough, because it varies by region and season. It needed to be right, and that search probably put me on an FBI watch list.

I spent half a day in Washington D.C. with the FBI tape analyst. Yes, the FBI has a scientist whose entire job is analyzing tape recovered from crime scenes. The time with her gave me background and detail that have added to several books, and taught me that the natural rubber in duct tape (the tape of choice for criminals worldwide) has chemistry as distinctive and unique as a fingerprint. Each rubber tree exudes rubber resin containing chemicals unique to its location, soil, season, and weather. My geekiness was squealing with delight over that tidbit of information.

I contacted Michele, one of the few forensic genealogists in North America, for the details on how to use the burgeoning genealogical DNA information to track down a killer. That technology was recently reported in the capture of the Golden State Killer. It's fascinating, but requires information available through limited databases. The jargon is unique to genealogists, and the way it's used for law enforcement and legal cases is as specific as the handling of DNA evidence collected from crime scenes. She suggested a book on forensic genealogy that was immensely helpful, but took a week of reading to get the detailed information that makes up four or five pages of a future book.

I spent a day doing research on UFO sightings while writing Burnt Evidence. I went to the the Mutual UFO Network website. MUFON publishes a monthly list of UFO sightings in the US and has an array of clothing and gear with their spaceship logo. (My daughter loves the MUFON t-shirt I sent as a birthday present. She says it does a wonderful job of cleaning windows.) I also consulted the US Air Force site on UFOS.

Why do all that work? The books are just fiction, right?

I read a book by a best-selling author whose main character caught and scaled a catfish for his dinner. Catfish don't have scales. I put that mistake aside and later stumbled again when he described a scene under a Sycamore tree in a geographical location where they don't grow. Some readers wouldn't continue after two glaring mistakes. Readers have confided that when they find a glaring factual error they set the book aside and move on to an author who's done his/her homework. And they don't come back.

Every author has mistakes that make it through the editorial and proofreading processes. I've never read a book without at least one or more typos, spelling errors, homonym errors (there, they're, their), or a missing quote mark. I get that. After reading a manuscript a dozen or more times I see what I meant to say, not what the words say. I rely on my editor and a crew of proofreaders to help me minimize those errors.

On the other hand, there are factual issues that require research and patience. I rely on a crew of experts to make sure I get the facts right. My sister-in-law once said I write by committee. It's not that as much as deferring to people with more expertise.. Julie, a retired R.N. reviews my medical terminology and facts. Deanna is my equine and law enforcement resource. Kinsley, a teenager, helps me create age appropriate dialogue for my teen characters. Clem teaches police firearms classes, Mike F. is a rural coroner, Fran is an archaeologist, Don retired from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and Mike W.  is a veterinarian. Brian, Natalie, and Anne all have other areas of expertise.

When I'm outside their areas of expertise, I rely on the internet or resource librarians. The information is out there. What color is a South Dakota State Trooper's uniform? What kind of cap, or hat do they wear? Those are minute details, but they lend credibility to my writing. Readers expect those details to be correct.

I was on a mystery writer's panel discussion with a woman who writes historical fiction. An audience member asked her how to start writing a historical novel. Her reply was, "Kill yourself now and save yourself the trouble of doing all the research." She went on to explain how difficult it was to make sure the language, clothing, armor, weapons, and customs are correct for a particular place and time. She threw out the example of chainmail, and how it was important to not have it show up in a novel set in a time before it was invented or after it fell out of favor. What type of chamber pot was used by King Louis XIV? Was it porcelain, pottery, or silver?

As an author, I strive get the details right. As a reader, you expect the author to do his/her homework. That said, cut the authors some slack if they occasionally mess up. A last minute change can lead to disaster when a find/replace gets out of control on the eve of a deadline. 

And when that typo/mistake shows up, feel smug that you found it, but don't feel compelled to contact the author, As John Sandford said in the author comment at the end of Ocean Prey, if you find a mistake, write it down, then wad up the paper, pop it in your mouth, chew, then swallow. He doesn't want or need to know that you found an error. His final words on the topic, "Don't make me come over there."

Island of Mystery and Exile, by Diane Scott Lewis

 

St. Helena, possibly the remotest place on earth, has many myths besides being the place of final exile and death of Napoleon. Come explore the island's other tales.

A SAVAGE EXILE. If you don't like vampires, don't despair, enjoy the mystery and the unique island in the far South Atlantic. I don't get too graphic. The defeated French Emperor was exiled to St. Helen in 1815, until his death in 1821.

Vampires with Napoleon was a fantastical concept. And fun to write, even with the more 'bloody' aspects, though kept to a minimum. My heroine, Isabelle, is a maid to an arrogant countess whose husband joins Napoleon in his banishment after the battle of Waterloo in 1815. Who in his entourage can be trusted?

And what of the strange tales of a 'beast' who dwells in the mountains? Isabelle fights her attraction to Napoleon's enigmatic valet, Ali, as the secrets, and a few deaths, pile up.

"Isabelle is likable heroine, and I enjoyed watching her make the best of a bad situation. Anyone who enjoys historical romance with a paranormal twist might want to check (A Savage Exile) out."

~ Long and Short Reviews

To purchase my novels and other BWL books: BWL

Instead of beasts, an airport is the latest news from this mysterious rock situated in the far reaches of the South Atlantic Ocean. 

I'd planned to visit St. Helena when I first wrote about Napoleon, but the expense to travel there is outrageous. First, you fly into Cape town, South Africa, then wait for the Royal Mail boat to arrive, schedule iffy, and sail to Jamestown, 2,000 miles away. You must seek permission from the British government, who still owns the island. Now the airport makes it easier to travel.

Napoléon à Sainte-Hélène by François-Joseph Sandmann

Many myths surround this isolated 'volcanic fist' at the bottom of the world. One concerning Napoleon is that a hurricane swept over the island, rattling homes, ripping out trees, on the day of his death, May 5, 1821. This has since been debunked. It was actually a nice day, weather-wise.

Whenever anything goes wrong on St. Helena, people claim it's Napoleon's Curse. Rain on a parade, wind shear at the airport, any misfortune. But this seems a 20th century invention.

One story has the island's ancient tortoise, Jonathon, is so old that he actually met Napoleon. But Jonathon isn't quite that old, and he doesn't make house calls.

But vampires? The mythical creatures of St. Helena are the Moncat, a cat-like critter with pointy ears and a monkey tail. A sea serpent was reported sighted off the island in 1848 by the HMS Daedalus. A frightening beast 60 feet long. 

Of more recent sightings, a blonde mermaid, bathing near the mail ship RMS St. Helena, that serves the island. Wishful thinking. (Okay, that's my granddaughter in her mermaid costume)

The most prevailing story is about a Portuguese soldier, Fernao Lopes, who was abandoned on the deserted island in the sixteenth century for criminal activities. He endured thirty years in complete solitude. His ghost is said to still haunt the hills and caves.

Find out more about me and my writing on my website: Dianescottlewis

Diane Parkinson (Diane Scott Lewis) is a member of the Historical Novel Society and the Napoleonic Historical Society. She’s had several historical novels published. Her most recent is the Revolutionary War novel, Her Vanquished Land. 

Her upcoming novel Ghost Point, the 1950s Potomac oyster wars, love and betrayal, will be released in September.

Diane lives with her husband and one naughty dachshund in Western Pennsylvania.

Seven Characteristics of a Writer by J.Q. Rose

 

Dangerous Sanctuary by J.Q. Rose
Romantic suspense

Pastor Christine Hobbs never imagined she would be caring for a flock that includes a pig, a kangaroo, and a murderer.

Dangerous Sanctuary is May's FREE eBook download from BWL Publishing

Click here to get your copy now.

A writer

Seven Characteristics of a Writer

One of the best perks of being a writer is using one's imagination to develop interesting characters. Villains are especially fun to create because they may do things in a story that the writer actually wants to do in real life e.g. kill off the neighbor's dog that barks constantly or bury the ex-boyfriend. 

Romping through a fictional world and having all the choices about what characteristics define the character in his/her world is more like play than work. 

“While we read a novel, we are insane—bonkers. We believe in the existence of people who aren't there, we hear their voices... Sanity returns (in most cases) when the book is closed.”
― Ursula K. Le Gui

But what about the characteristics of a real, live writer? We had fun discussing this topic at my friend's blog, so I decided to share the list of seven real-world characteristics that I believe a writer has. 

📕 Devotion A writer must love what she is doing. If not, the book or essay will never get written because the first draft is always junk. If a writer is not devoted, she will tear up the pages and give up. Rejections will knock her off her feet, and she will never try again. But when devoted to creating her piece, her desire and determination may be challenged, but she will keep writing.

📕 Organization  Writers must organize their research for a story, save the manuscript files to choose the correct one for editing, keep track of promotions, prepare posts for a blog, email and/or social media, keep up with the bookkeeping. Thank goodness spreadsheets can help with these many tasks.

📕 Imagination Remember when you were a kid, and you would act out stories with your friends or make up poems for your mom? Fiction writers never lose that creativity. Non-fiction writers need imagination too to send the clear solution for a problem to readers in an interesting and new way.

📕 Intelligence Smart people can write! I know it sounds like bragging, but it is the truth.

📕 Discipline If a writer cannot set aside time when penning a project and keep that appointment, the writing will never be finished.  Carving out a time in her schedule for creating a project and sitting down consistently to do it will develop the habit of writing.  

📕 Strong vocabulary Writers need to know a variety of words to clearly describe places, characters and emotions. Reading enlarges vocabulary. Become a wordsmith using Thesaurus.com. 

📕 Sense of Humor  Mark Twain and Janet Evanovich are masters when it comes to including humor in their stories. Even a horror story or murder mystery can use a light touch within the pages. 

What are your thoughts on the list? Please add more characteristics in the comment section below.

 Click here to connect online with JQ.

Author JQ Rose

Click here to discover more books by JQ Rose 

on her author page at BWL Publishing.

Research is Fun and Games by Helen Henderson

 

Windmaster by Helen Henderson
Click the cover for purchase information.

Long before my first published novel or byline in a magazine, history held a special fascination. Now I admit while there is a convenience to the Internet, it comes with challenges. One is validating the accuracy of the information. Another is the time sink. One fact leads to another of even more interest. Open another site while you're there and that single click becomes two or three or four and more hours lost.

Then there is the information itself. Is the source knowledgeable? Is the information from the era or written many years later? When teaching seminars on research techniques I also recommend noting whether the material is primary material that is newly available such as a recent transcription making it available on the internet or is the information simply a rehash of a rehash. Diaries written as events happen provide a unique insight into the world and perceptions of the time.

Since I admit a fondness for books, you might think libraries are a favorite research site. And while I have spent hours (actually days) at the New York City Public Library, the Alexander Library of Rutgers University, and the Library of Congress, my favorite means of gathering information for settings or characters is in-person. Over the years I've ridden on horseback with a saddle, bareback, or with a blanket. Summers were passed with target practice with bow and arrow, rifle,and hatchet. No, I am not one of those firing the cannon. My firearm experience is with more contemporary weapons, not those that use black powder.

 

I have donned period garb and mingled with Revolutionary War and Civil War reenactors to immerse myself in those times. To help stay in tune with the events, a wicker basket concealed my notebook and contemporary camera. For a different perspective I've participated in archaeological digs at  Revolutionary War battlefields and a Civil War Training Ground.

Wearing fatigues and combat boots, I rode a jeep as a journalist embedded with a column of restored World War II military vehicles. The trip started when I reported to the airfield. The guard on duty telephoned "headquarters." A few minutes later, a soldier rode up on a restored WW II bicycle with my "orders." At that point I knew things were going to be interesting as I was told to muster in uniform  and report to a jeep in the middle of the column. I was in essence transported to the 1940s.

That was not the only time I felt I was in another era. Now to set the scene. You are standing beneath the wing of a B-17 bomber, surrounded by men and women in uniform. The swing and big band music being broadcast over the loudspeakers stops mid-note. “Pearl Harbor has just been bombed,” echoes over the tarmac. Even after the crowd of thousands realized it was a replay of a broadcast from December 7th, 1941, they remained in attentive silence, many rubbing goose bumps from their arms. As a side note, I had a similar reaction years later when I stood on the boardwalk near where I lived and saw the twin towers shrouded in smoke.

<

The storyline and setting for one  short story came from walking a reenactor camp after the public had left for the day. The eerie notes of "Taps" floating over a fog-filled field that just hours before had the sounds of battle created the impression that an ethereal bugler is summoning the souls of those who died on that hallowed ground centuries before.

~ Off to research a new work. Until next month, stay safe and read. Helen

To purchase the Windmaster Novels: BWL

Find out more about me and my novels at Journey to Worlds of Imagination. Follow me online at Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter.
 

Helen Henderson lives in western Tennessee with her husband. While she doesn’t have any pets in residence at the moment, she often visits a husky and a feisty who have adopted her as one of their pack.

Covid Tired by Nancy M Bell

To learn more about Nancy and her books click on the flyer above.

I'm Covid tired, are you? I really, really want to go somewhere, do something, but nope, can't. Infection numbers are rising like crazy in Alberta. So....I have turned my frustrations to good use. Chance's Way, which I blogged about last month, is coming along. The above flyer is a mock up, the final cover will have Chance in place of Laurel, but this gives you an idea of the concept.

It's kinda cool to see all the covers in the Laurel series together. Particularly, the two Arabella covers. For those unfamiliar with the series, Laurel's Gramma Bella, while she's not in the Cornwall Adventures until the last book, has set a number of things in motion before the first book in the series. Arabella's Secret  series explores how some things came to be and how Gramma Bella ended up in southern Alberta married to a rancher instead of staying close to home in Cornwall.

I'm still working on Chance's story as he grapples with his demons and struggles with the financial difficulties of keeping the family ranch going. His pride won't let him ask for help, but the boy is floundering. Colt Rowan watches with concern, but doesn't want to stick his nose in where it might not be wanted. Laurel and Chance seem to be mending the rifts in their relationship, at least as far as friendship is concerned. Her heart is still with Coll in Cornwall, but that's a long way away. 

Stay tuned for more updates next month!

www.nancymbell.ca

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New Book and other news _BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #Pre-release #Sale

 

Haunted Dreams – On Pre-Order plus other news

For some reason I can't get the picture of the cover to copy

 

 

Haunted Dreams is available for pre-order. Plus M&MT is now free on Amazon which will hopefully give us a bunch of sales for the other books in the series.  Be sure to promote it on your blog posts.   https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071DMVYN5

 

Haunted Dreams – Blurb:

Rachel Lange is a Cancer and a student in a Master’s program in Child Psychology. Her dreams are haunted by an abusive relationship and by an estrangement from her father, her only close relative.

Zach Majors is an attorney and a Libra. His dreams are haunted by his experience in Afghanistan and by the problems of his young sons, one who has nightmares nearly every night. He has come to Fern Lake to try to help his sons grow and to feel safe.

Between Rachel and Zach, the attraction is instant but they each have problems to overcome before they can think about the future. She has formed a rapport with the angriest of Zach’s sons. Together this pair must find peace within themselves and bring healing to their families.

 

A BIT FROM THE STORY

“They’re here.” Davey pointed and ran toward the blue sedan.

Rachel turned. Beside her friends, she saw a tall man with blonde hair. He must be Nate’s new partner. She closed her car door and followed Davey.

 

* * *

 

Zach walked to where Janine and Nate waited. He watched Davey running toward them. A dark-haired woman followed. Who? He reached the couple. “Where are the trees?”

Nate laughed. “Open your eyes.”

Zach saw rows of trees in the distance. There were none cut for him to choose one.

Davey grasped his hand. “Mr. Majors, see all those rows. You walk to the ones that the trees as tall as you want and pick one. Then a man comes and cuts it down. Didn’t you ever do that?”

Zach nodded. “The only Christmas trees I ever saw for sale were already cut and standing in a lot. How do they know which one you want?”

Nate cocked his head. “The rows are marked by heights.”

“That tells me nothing.”

“I believe you need an eight to nine footer. That’s the size I want. I’ll point them out.”

The dark-haired woman reached them. “Sorry bit I couldn’t keep the impatient one at home. He locked himself in my car. When I tried to program my GPS he read the directions."

“How did he know?” Janine asked.

Davey’s grin widened. “I looked on the internet and printed the directions. I used my little flashlight to read them.” He waved the paper.

“Clever,” Zach said.

Nate groaned. “My fault, I showed him the site.” He turned to his son. “While I admire your cleverness I think there’ll be no computer tomorrow.”

Davey nodded. “That’s fair.” He clasped his father’s hand. “Rachel had to come. She needed a tree so she bought one in a pot. When we come home from Disney I’ll keep it until spring. Then we can plant it.”

Janine turned to her friend. “Good thought. She indicated Zach. “Rachel Lange, meet Zach Majors.”

Zach reached for Rachel’s hand. “Good to meet you.” The moment their fingers touched he felt a jolt that made him catch his breath. He studied her. What had just happened? He forced himself to release her hand. He wasn’t ready for an attraction to any woman.

Rachel stepped back. A few snowflakes sprinkled her dark brown hair. “Have fun finding a tree. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

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A good weed? by J.C. Kavanagh

The Twisted Climb

Book 1 of the award-winning Twisted Climb series

 

Is there such a thing as a good weed? 

I look in my gardens and think not. I sigh as I admire the wee flowers poking out of the newly warmed ground (in southern Ontario, the overnight temperatures are only now above zero Celsius). So this past weekend, I dived into the dirt, knees bent and arms outstretched, wishing I could strangle the weeds that are strangling my growing flowers. Aarrgh!

I ask again: is there such a thing as a good weed?

Redroot Pigweed.
Famous (?) for devastating grain crops because they produce between 10,000 and 30,000 seeds per plant. And if that isn't bad enough for your home garden,
 the seeds can lie dormant for up to 40 years.  

Yes, you know what these are.

Garlic Mustard.
Nasty rotten no-good weed.
The roots are thought to produce a toxin that contaminates the soil for adjacent flowers. 

The weeds in my garden are not good (see above). They spread like wildfire and their roots are similar to the highway system of a huge metropolis. The nerve of them to grow in my garden. I can't identify some of the weeds when they're tiny so I let them grow for a day or two and then, dang! Suddenly they're a foot tall and spreading their strangling roots. The very nerve.

And then I look at my lawn. There are yellow weeds everywhere - you know them... dandelions. Who thought of that name? They aren't dandy at all and they have no resemblance to lions. If they weren't so vivid in colour and if the bees didn't love them so much, I would have my way with them and they'd be 'dandydead.'

In my flower gardens, I tried to outsmart the weeds. I added a layer of mulch. 

The weeds laughed.

I tried adding a thicker layer of wood chips. 

The weeds laughed harder and my perennials cried for sunlight.

There's no way around it. I have to weed out the weeds. 

Weeds are like bullies. They throw their weight/roots around, striking a nerve whatever they touch. Being a bully comes naturally to Jayden, one of the main characters in The Twisted Climb series. Can she maintain that character trait while her dad encourages her inner kindness? Or will her cruel, alcoholic mother continue leading her down the 'poor-me' path. Check out the award-winning series and you be the judge. Be bully, or be nice?

In the meantime, stay safe everyone.

 

J.C. Kavanagh, author of
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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Childhood Bullying and what to do about it

 

 

Nearly everyone has been bullied at some point in their lives, especially during their school years. Most have experienced it occasionally and for only a short while. But what if a child is subject to daily bullying, lasting weeks, sometimes months and even years?

The consequences of long-term bullying, for children and teens, can be devastating. Younger children express the daily anxiety as stomach aches, headaches, sleep disturbances, withdrawal and nightmares. For the especially vulnerable, bullying can result in dropping out of school, self-harm, panic attacks, depression, and violent behavior.

At least one in three adolescent students in Canada have reported being bullied, while 47% of Canadian parents have reported their child being a victim of bullying. Studies suggest that roughly 6% of students aged 12 to 19 bullying others on a weekly basis while 8% are victims of weekly bullying.

Children get bullied in several ways. The most common is verbal bullying, which include racial slurs, unwanted sexual comments and threatening words. Another is social bullying, which includes mobbing, public humiliation and graffiti. Cyber bullying, the use of the internet, smartphone and other devices to intimidate, harass and spread rumors or explicit images, is a fairly recent phenomenon. Finally, physical bullying, the hitting, poking, stealing possessions and unwanted sexual touching, has been around since time immemorial.

The sex of the victim plays a role in the type of bullying. Girls are more likely to be subjected to cyber and social bullying than boys, while non-cisgender children are three times more likely to be victimized.

What about the bully? In many instances, bullies are also victims—of violence in their homes, dysfunctional family situations and of unhealthy power relationships in their lives. Studies show that 40 percent of bullying boys engage in delinquent behavior as compared to 5 percent of those who don’t. Many grow up to be troubled adults, displaying psychological problems, aggressive tendencies and adult depression. The prevention of bullying in children and youth is an important factor in reducing future possible criminal behavior.

Much can be done to counter this problem. Among the most effective are in-school programs, which provide comprehensive, school-wide models that seek to track, prevent and alter both the environmental factors and the victimization of students. Students can be taught some simple steps to protect themselves, such as walking away, asking for help and staying in groups. Programs, such as BullyingCanada.ca offer free hot-line services and counselling to both students and parents.

 

 Mohan Ashtakala is the author of "The Yoga Zapper," a fantasy, and "Karma Nation," a literary romance. (www.mohanauthor.com) He is published by Books We Love (www.bookswelove.com)

 

 

My Hobby Is People Watching...by Sheila Claydon

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Three very different books with three very different heroines, and written over a period of several years. Why is this interesting? Well I've just read an interesting blog by one of my fellow BWL writers, Roseanne Dowell, where she talks about creating characters. In it she says that characters are all around us from elderly relatives to friends and loved ones, or from just observing people in restaurants, or at the airport, or anywhere else where we can watch the world go by.

It got me thinking about how I create the very different characters that inhabit my books and I realised that each one is made up of a mix of people I have either met or read about. Take Mel in Double Fault for example. Hardworking, determined, prepared to do almost anything to protect her children, she is very much like someone I know. Emotionally, however, she is very different. She has shut herself off from love because she never wants to be hurt again.  I've taken that from an entirely different person. Then there are the opposing characters of her twin children, one ebullient and one much more reserved and shy. I love writing about children because although they all have very different characters, there is a universality about them from cuteness to tantrums that tugs at the heartstrings. 

There is also a universality about all my heroines. Every one of them is feisty and determined, Arabella in Miss Locatelli particularly so as she battles to save her family business. And in Cabin Fever, Ellie faces up to her own work challenge with an obstinacy that borders on the impossible...until she pulls it off of course! 

And then there are the heroes, all of whom have problems and idiosyncrasies of their own, the same as my heroines, because none of them are close to being perfect. After all, who is in real life?

Something else apart from Roseanne's blog has has triggered this introspection about creating characters, however. It's what has been happening in my own life in the past few weeks. I live right opposite a nature reserve. It's an idyllic spot comprising miles of woodland, sand dunes and wild beach. For much of the year it is relatively quiet and much enjoyed by local residents. Unfortunately, thanks to social media and TV,  it has now been discovered by the wider world.  I use the word unfortunately, not because local residents don't want to share our lovely beach and countryside, but because the nature reserve and the village don't have the necessary infrastructure to cope. There isn't enough parking. Toilet facilities are minimal. The routes down to the beach are almost inaccessible for families with small children in strollers as it's a long haul up and over the sand dunes carrying picnics and blankets. When someone has travelled 2 hours in a car for a day out, however, such difficulties are not going to deter them. Consequently, on a sunny day there are cars everywhere. They are parked across resident's private driveways, on grass verges and pavements, on corners, and across double yellow lines and, worst of all, when these very frustrated tourists drive around in search of that elusive/non-existent parking space they cause such terrible traffic congestion on narrow roads that residents are confined to their homes, unable to get out. In recent months an elderly woman was knocked down, an emergency vehicle was unable to reach a house where a man had had a heart attack, and nurses and carers haven't been able to get to their elderly and/or chronically ill patients. 

So how does all of this feed into the characterisation of the people who inhabit my books. Well for a start I have a front seat view of how people behave in what is often very stressful situation, and how they resolve their individual problems. This includes the reaction of residents as well as the day trippers. And now, because the whole situation is becoming untenable, a group of householders have come together to petition both the local council and the organisation that runs the nature reserve. We are asking for better traffic controls in residential areas and more parking and toilet facilities much closer to the beach. To do this we have had to knock on doors to invite people to sign our petition, and although I can't speak for my fellow petitioners, what fun it has been for a writer. 

At last I've had a legitimate reason to ring doorbells and engage strangers in conversation, and the old adage is perfectly true, everyone does have a story and it takes very little encouragement to get them to share it. Being interested is enough. I have learned about family histories, the successes or otherwise of children, details of local business people, ditto local villains (that surprised me!) plus, most fascinatingly, the hidden history of the village where I have lived for so long. How, for example, many years ago, the field opposite my house used to flood sufficiently in the winter for the locals to ice-skate on it. Now it doesn't flood at all. Is that a small window into local climate change? Also how, in the summer, the same field used to host the village fair, an event that has now moved much closer to the village centre. 

I've also been able to peep into houses, either from the doorstep or through a window as I approached the door, and seen how very differently people live. There are the pristine, beautifully curated homes with floral displays and shining floors. There are the homes bursting with children where trainers and boots are scattered across the porch and toys litter the hall. There are dogs of every shape and size, and everyone of them aware that, as a dog owner, I probably have dog treats in my pocket. Then there are the very elderly who, because of the exigencies of Coronavirus, rarely have visitors. These were some of the most interesting because their memories of local events go back a long, long way. And in almost every case  they were pragmatic about their situation and determined to make the best of it. So all in all my experience of watching and engaging with people has been very interesting indeed. I now have plenty of material for many more books. All I need is the time to write them!

New Series, New Book!

 

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I'm delighted to be presenting a new YA series this month...the Linda Tassel Mysteries. Linda is a daughter of the Eastern Cherokee nation in Georgia. In Death at Little Mound she is discovering about the ancient people of her homeland through her work on an archeology dig. Into her life comes Tad Gist, a recent transplant from Buffalo New York. Just in time to help her solve a murder.

my first Nancy Drew mystery...The Secret in the Old Clock!

I enjoyed writing about Linda from Tad's point of view. I set the stories in the 1990s, when my children were teens.  What fun to revisit that time of their lives. When I was a teen, I loved reading Nancy Drew mysteries, but was frustrated that Nancy stayed a perpetual sixteen through all her adventures. I plan to follow Linda and Tad through their teen age years and deepening romance.

I hope you or a young reader you know will join them!

Monet's Cataracts - and mine

 

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Last summer I noticed a cloudiness in my left eye. I suspected it was due to cataracts, which run on both sides of my family. My husband had them a few years ago, with similar symptoms. When my eye doctor confirmed the problem in both eyes, she remarked that she likes referring severely near-sighted people for cataract surgery. In most cases, the treatment significantly improves their vision and they'll need thinner eyeglasses, and sometimes, none at all.

Cataracts are one thing that make me glad I don't live in the past. My relatives who had the surgery in the 1970s were hospitalized for a week, and afterward they had to wear Coke-bottle-bottom eyeglasses. My grandmother was an early recipient of lens implants in the 1980s. They worked well for her after her month of bed rest. Today, recovery is quick--minor restrictions like no swimming for a week.           

After cataract surgery, I'll be able to snorkel without prescription goggles. 

I used to think cataract surgery was a 20th century invention and people who lived earlier simply went blind. But it goes back to the fifth century BC. The treatment then involved striking the eye with a blunt object, dislodging the eye fluid and restoring limited vision. Centuries later the surgery evolved to inserting a needle into the eye and extracting the cataract. The basic method hasn't changed a lot since then, according to my cataract information sheet. Today's treatment involves inserting a fine probe into the eye, removing the cataract and then injecting a lens implant. 

The year after my husband's cataract surgery, we took a holiday in northern France. On the way to Paris, we stopped at Giverny, the former home of impressionist painter, Claude Monet. We were intrigued to learn that Monet had cataracts for almost twenty years before they were treated with surgery. We wondered if this explained the muted and blurred shades in many of his impressionistic paintings. 

Monet's failing vision led him to use larger brushstrokes. He saw some colours differently with cataracts. Fog increasingly shrouded his view of everything. Post-surgery he destroyed or redid some of the paintings he created when he saw his world through cataracts. 

Water Lilies by Claude Monet, painted in 1920, three years before his cataract surgery, hangs in The National Gallery, London  

Due to my high astigmatism, my eye surgeon recommended I upgrade to a lens that corrects this problem. I further upgraded to a multifocal lens that can handle distance, intermediate (computer) and reading vision.  The standard lens sets vision to only one level, making glasses necessary for most people. 

It's now two weeks after surgery on my second eye and my vision isn't perfect. My right eye is 20/20 for distance. The left is worse, but much better for reading. The left also sees halos and glare when I watch TV. The eye technician says these should diminish in time and I can expect my eyes to take 4-6 weeks to settle. I see well for most activities, which is a huge change after wearing glasses since I was ten years old. I'm still getting used to my naked face and find myself trying to remove or put on imaginary glasses. I wear sunglasses on windy days so grit doesn't blow into my eyes. But it feels great, if a little strange, to wake up every morning and see the world clearly. 

     Monet's garden, Giverny, France