Category Archives: hobbies

One name lit my brain on fire

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It’s been a while since I have been in this creative space. When the lodge I work at closes for the season, my first desire is to get back into the kitchen to make weekly freezer crockpot meals for our local food bank, and, most recently, soup for our local Hospice. It is a true passion of mine.

But my other passion crept stealthily back into my consciousness after a name appeared in a Facebook post and captured my attention. I have been mentally preparing to write a new novel this winter, and, although I have begun writing the first chapter, I had no idea where this story would go. I rely on my characters to lead that charge. Once I saw this name, I knew this person was going to be an integral part of the story.

I have five white boards in my living room, all dedicated to absorbing and displaying information that will become important in the stories I write. When I scribble my ideas onto the boards, I have no idea how or when the ideas will take shape, I only know they will be a key to developing the twists in the story.

When this name wormed itself into my brain, I stood up and, in a panic, looked for my dry erase markers. I had recently cleaned my living room and moved the markers to a new spot in my house and could not remember where I put them. I became the human equivalent of a Roomba, bouncing off furniture and changing my trajectory. I became so agitated that I finally went into the kitchen and spewed my thoughts onto the white board on my fridge that usually contains my shopping list.

I freed the beast. The name is catalogued and waiting to share their story. I’m not going to mention the name in this post because that would defeat the shocking twist at the end of the story, even though I currently have no idea what that twist will be. That is for the character to tell me and guide me along as they tell their story.

My brain is on fire. I don’t see sleep in my near future. And, as always, I give my nod to the writing Gods who are constantly sending me bits of information to pique my curiosity and keep me looking for those subtle messages they send in the strangest ways.

You know you’ve met your people when….

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The calendar has finally turned the page into September. There are many reasons for me to smile after writing that line. This means the lodge has slowed down enough so we can all have two days off in a row to catch up on our rest. This means the temperature is dipping down low enough at night that sleep is enjoyed under a fuzzy blanket while the windows are still open. And this means it is soup and stew season!

I recently saw a post on Facebook written by a woman who has come to the realization that her 1971 slow cooker has finally admitted defeat and is no longer able to keep its temperature. The collective messages were those of sadness and unwavering support. We, being soup and stew people, felt the loss as much as she did.

As a helper, by nature, I immediately sent her the link to my latest slow cooker purchase that was designed to not only cook on a consistent low temperature, but had the added feature of being able to brown meat and sauté vegetables before turning the dial to cook on that same slow temperature for six to eight hours, producing the most melt-in-your-mouth meals you could hope for.

These are my people. These people who mourn the loss of a piece of kitchen equipment that has lived through generations of their families. These people who remember Aunt Jenny’s crockpot beef stew decades after Aunt Jenny has passed, but still put the same ingredients into their slow cookers to honour her memory, and enjoy the familiar taste of her stew. These people who enjoy summer to the fullest, but secretly wait for soup and stew season to start again.

Darkness and humor

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At the end of another busy summer at the lodge, I came home today and relaxed by scrolling through the many posts I have published on this blog. I have participated in many writing challenges that have allowed me to hone my writing skills by inspiring me to create a full story in a certain number of words. This particular challenge was to write a 66-word story using the word fanatic. The following paragraph was my entry.

‘After hearing the word mispronounced, with the emphasis on the wrong syllable, she had an idea of what to do with the wretched people who would not allow her solace.  Fanatic – indeed they were.  They camped out in her driveway, followed her everywhere but, one by one, they became smaller in numbers.  Her “fan-attic”, mind you, was becoming rather full.  She hoped the smell would dissipate.’

I blame my brother for introducing me to the wonderful books of Dean Koontz in my teenage years. Dean’s books are filled with dark themes, but those books are lightened by an underlying humor that makes the badness easier to embrace. This is the style of book I love to read, so this became the style of book I wanted to write.

Although I have written and self-published six books, I still love a challenge. Earlier this year, I entered the NYC Micro-Fiction Writing Challenge to create a story in 250 words with a pre-assigned theme and a key phrase. I missed the top ten entries by one, placing first in the honorary mentions. I received some wonderful feedback from the judges and great encouragement to follow my passion to keep writing.

I will soon be editing the book I wrote last winter and I will forge ahead with the book I have just begun writing. Next year, two new books will be added to my growing list of novels, and I have ideas for so many more stories. Once the hard work of writing the books is complete, the harder work of marketing myself begins. Wish me luck!!

Putting myself out there

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In a world that is so heavily focused on social media presence, I have been content to hide behind the safety of this blog and not engage in really anything outside of my comfort zone. But those days of living behind the scenes are over. If I want to put myself out there and have people know about my books, I need to fully engage in the trends, and I need to immerse myself in Booktok.

The thought of creating many short videos of myself talking about my books, and my writing process, is terrifying, but necessary. In my mind, I have committed to the process, but in my gut, I feel like I have eviscerated myself and my entrails are spilling onto the concrete slab in front of my house, steaming under the heat of the late summer’s sun.

I have written a six-book series that I am extremely proud of, but the thought of shamelessly promoting myself makes my skin crawl. But this is the nature of the beast. This is marketing. And this is what I need to do to make people who like to read the genre I love to write about want to read my books.

It has been a remarkable journey, from the initial concept of my first book, to tying in the other ideas to create a series, to finishing the six books in The Relative Series. I could not have imagined where I am now from where I was in 2017.

I will have two new stand-alone books available in 2026, and I am eager to listen to the voices in my head and continue my writing journey.

Thank you to everyone who has followed me, and thank you to those who are just finding me. I have much more to say, so keep your eyes open for new books coming soon!

Inflation isn’t a bad thing when it has to do with your ego

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My series of books has been getting more attention lately, which makes me a happy writer. Some wonderful reader in the US has quickly ingested two of the books in the series, and I am keeping a close eye on my KDP stats to see if they delve into the next book. The local sales have increased during the summer months, and book sales at the lodge are adding to the growing list of people reading my books!

A family of long-time guests (they started visiting the lodge in the 1980’s) checked in on Saturday. Two of them are currently reading books from The Relative Series and are loving them. Vickie has not been reading much over the last few years, but she picked up Gemini and couldn’t put it down. That makes my heart happy. Her mother Deb, who is also reading my books, told me she used to be an editor. She admits there is a lot of crap out there, but she praised my writing and told me I deserve high marks.

My head barely fit through the door when I left work yesterday. My ego grew three sizes, and I could not help smiling during the entire drive home. Today is my day off, and their praise gave me the shove I needed to turn off my phone and re-awaken my creative brain. Sadly, it has been dormant since the start of our busy summer season at the lodge, but I am determined to rattle its cage and wake the beast.

The long list of ideas for new books is anxiously awaiting my attention. This fall, I am determined to edit the book I wrote last winter, and get started on one of the many ideas I have listed on the white board titled ‘New ideas for books’. One of those ideas has a firm grip on my attention and the protagonist is urging me to listen to his story. I cannot wait to be lost in the familiar fugue of writing while my characters tell their tales.

Let it flow

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These are words I recently used as advice for a friend of mine. After texting this phrase to her, I sat back to let those words play over and over again, like a moving marquee in my brain, until my own message became clear. The words I shared with her also had a deep meaning to me.

I have sadly been neglecting the voices in my head. I have allowed myself to live each day in a perfunctory state of mind without paying attention to the creativity I have harnessed in the past and thoroughly enjoyed while listening to those voices. The list of to-be-written books in my brain has grown exponentially, but the compulsion to put in the work to bring those stories to life has waned.

I miss the joy I feel when I write. I miss those moments of lost time when I become so consumed by a story that hours go by before I am able to remind myself I am in my own home and I am not the central character of one of my stories, and living in a realm I have created.

I need to embrace the freedom of creativity, and I need to let it flow. I need to let it wake me up in the wee hours of the morning. I need to let it interrupt my work hours. And I need to let it add a few items to my grocery list.

Being able to create a story from beginning to end was never a gift I asked for on my Christmas wish list when I was a child. But being able to create a story from beginning to end is something I will cherish for the rest of my life. Let it flow!

Soup’s On – Part 3

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Wow, if this blog and I were friends in real life, I would have understandably been given the cold shoulder for not holding up my end of the bargain in our shared communication. It has been over two months since I paid any attention to this cherished space and given myself permission to get lost in its warm embrace. I could blame a myriad number of outside circumstances, but the only thing I have to blame is myself.

It is so easy to become so consumed by life that we let our simple pleasures fall to the wayside. Between work, drafting novels, and spending time volunteering for our local food bank, I lost sight of the things that truly bring me back to myself. Creating things in my kitchen, especially soup, is the easiest way for me to feel grounded again. But, until today, I have regarded my kitchen with indifference. It had become just another room in my house, and I had forgotten how much of my heart beats within its four walls.

Not only does creating something from scratch remind me of my dad’s reckless abandon in the kitchen, making soup sparks a different part of my creativity, and sharing those soups with my family brings me great joy. Like my writing journey, I never know what the voices in my head will tell me to do, but almost every soup is something exciting and new. No two soups, even if I make the same thing again and again, are ever the same because I don’t follow a recipe. That is true freedom.

My writer’s brain has been blocked this week, but taking the time to put my skills back to work in my kitchen has dislodged the obstacle that was quelling my creative writing. There is a reason my characters like to cook, and that reason has reminded me to get back to basics and start from a familiar place to allow myself the freedom to put my trust back in the voices in my head. They are not controlling my brain, they are merely shining a light in a direction I had not anticipated.

Two soups are now being slow-cooked into submission in my kitchen, and the neurons of my writing brain have lifted their noses to deeply inhale the aroma of motivation. Everyone is familiar with the adage ‘stop and smell the roses’, but in my case it is ‘stop and smell the soup’. Just that brief moment of taking the time to allow the familiar smells to permeate my senses has opened a new door into the book I will soon finish writing.

When we were children, my mom’s way of letting us know dinner was ready was to yell ‘soup’s on’. Well, the soup is on in more than one way in my house. The crockpots may be filled with delicious ingredients, but my brain is now filled with a profusion of ideas to get this book finished. Soup’s on, indeed!

How one book has potentially turned into a four-part series

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Writing is an interesting pastime. Some days my fingers cannot keep up with the speed at which ideas come, and other days I stare at the screen for countless hours and nothing happens. For five months, especially during the initial Covid-19 isolation period, my characters self-isolated as well. The voices I am proud to admit I listen to were so muted, I began to think I had never heard their voices in the first place, and I was unable to write anything. But divine inspiration is a wonderful thing and it comes from sources that are never anticipated, but truly cherished.

Last week, I had the extreme good fortune of having a guest at the lodge who had read my first, unpublished novel in July take a keen interest in the story. He had arrived back at the lodge for a second stay in August, and during each day of his vacation, he dedicated a portion of his precious family time every afternoon to meet with me and discuss his ideas of how he saw the concepts of my future novels morphing into a series. My creativity exploded with the force of a Supernova and an abundance of lights reappeared in the dark recesses of my brain. By gently weaving the characters from the first novel into the fabric of books two, three and four, the “Relative” Series was given life. To say his input was invaluable is an egregious understatement.

In the short span of seven days, my creativity came back with a vengeance. Spending thirty to sixty minutes a day sharing ideas about my characters and my story lines relit a fire within me that had long been extinguished. My neurons recharged, the bubbling cauldron of ideas overflowed and one book turned into a series of four stories, now all connected, taking the word ‘relative’ to a new level.

White board at the ready, I will be spending my day off tomorrow journaling ideas for the new books and documenting the connections between stories. Book number two is still in its infancy, but it is pulling itself up to the table and is ready to take a few more tentative steps before it hits the ground running. Zoom meetings have been scheduled with my friend every Monday beginning September fourteenth and I am ready to be accountable for getting this series written. 2020 has just take a giant turn for the better!

 

 

 

 

Filling my cup

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This is the high season in the hospitality world for resort operators. While the start of the season was extremely stressful having to have so many safety procedures in place, we are succeeding on a daily basis and giving those who had been isolating in the larger urban areas a chance to socially distance while relaxing and unwinding in cottage country.

For most of the month of July, I have spent my energy filling cups that did not belong to me. My cup had a small reserve, enough to keep me putting one foot in front of the other and do my job to the best of my ability, but it waited to be filled with the things I needed to bring me back to me.

During the busy season, I get one day off a week. Yesterday was that day. Instead of going out for socially-distanced visits, I chose to stay home and fill MY cup. I allowed myself to sleep in. I cranked show tunes while I cleaned my house and I got back into my kitchen for the first time in a long time. I love to cook, but Covid-19 had all but squeezed the life out of every molecule that gave me the desire to create food, until yesterday. It was a small step making Vegetable Soup, but it was a step in the right direction.

Each day I make an effort to fill my cup is a day I am headed on the path back to myself. Each moment I choose to find the beauty and the fun in the things I did before the coronavirus took over the world is an achievement I find worthy of celebrating. Life may not be normal for a long time, but those moments I can bring as much normal and joy back to me is a small victory.

As I type this post you are reading this morning, several hummingbirds visited my feeder and my juvenile groundhog friend, Chunk, munched on the quarter of a watermelon I left out for him. Life really is about the small things and those little moments filled my cup. I’m ready to start another week and face the challenges that may loom in the distance.

 

 

 

 

Getting my characters out of self-isolation

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The voices in my head, the ones I admit I listen to on a regular basis, have been annoyingly silent over the past few months. Those tentative whispers that regularly woke me from sleep at three in the morning have taken self-isolation to a whole new level and have remained reticent since the Covid pandemic took the world by storm. I am not ashamed to admit I miss the sleepless nights. I long for the wee hours when I can wake up with new ideas for my book and the characters trip over each other to take a prominent position to tell their stories.

I have never been one to write an outline for any story I am creating. I am merely the vehicle for my characters to drive in any direction they choose. My responsibility is to follow the rules of the writing road to keep them from careening over a cliff or crashing into a cement barrier. It sounds much easier than it is if I am being honest.

I have always been a big fan of fiction that is character driven. Sure, it’s nice to read stories that are wonderfully descriptive but, if I cannot find endearing qualities in the characters, I tend to lose interest if I am unable to find a connection to the personalities who are telling their stories. I had developed a wonderful rapport with my new characters and am thrilled they felt comfortable enough to share their narrative with me.

But the time has come to coax them out of hiding. I am going to bait the trap. I am going to lure them out of their cushy recesses and put them back to work. They have a story to tell and my fingers are hovering over the keyboard, ready to make some sense of what they are telling me. I went back to my job after a government regulated hiatus. It is time for them to do the same.