Tag Archives: writing

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.

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.

Writing little things to amuse myself

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We are now firmly entrenched in the nine weeks of summer chaos at the lodge, which means I do not have the cranial capacity to write meaningful sentences, or paragraphs, that could potentially become useful in any future books. I do, however, have the time to think about the novels I have written and remember a few of the phrases that make me laugh. But, if I am honest, those phrases will most likely go completely unnoticed by my readers.

The final book in The Relative Series has a few nuggets that make me giggle, but one keeps resurfacing in my brain and I laugh out loud every time I think of it.

A student goes missing from a university in London, England in the early 1900’s. The intense investigation begins and the main character, Adelstein Beckett, is questioned by the police. The missing girl’s name is Margaret Carillon. Her last name was chosen after a brief Google search, and I am laughing as I write this. A carillon is a musical instrument made of cast bronze bells. In my book, the police ask if Mr. Beckett is familiar with a student named Margaret Carillon. Addy’s response (I’m still giggling) is, “It rings a bell.”

I don’t know why it makes me laugh so much, but I am glad I can still find the enjoyment in the little bit of humour I wrote specifically for myself. There are other references to things that mean a great deal to me, and I am happy to leave those little bits of my life in my books. I can only hope friends and family may recognize the subtle references.

I miss writing. But while I spend the next 49 days enjoying spending time with our summer guests, my mind will still be focused on the books that are waiting to be written, the characters who are waiting to be defined, and the amusing lines I can add to my stories that will continue to make me laugh!

Taken far too soon

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I lost a friend on Tuesday. I had only known her for a little over two years, but I knew her well enough to know she could aptly be described as a spark plug. She was certainly a person who energized, inspired, and animated every room she was in.

In the short time I knew Lee, I had never seen her in a bad mood. Sure, there were days when she came to work feeling a little less than her usual chipper self, but she never let that affect the outcome of her day. And by the time she had eased into her routine, that infectious smile and her zest for life filled every room she entered.

There was never a dull breakfast service when she was “toast master”. I could hear the laughter in the kitchen through the walls of my office, and when I went in to see what was happening, Lee would be dancing behind the line and bringing everyone up to her level of light. That’s what she did. She radiated it. It shone through her. And she shared that beautiful light with everyone.

The fact I am so affected by her passing after knowing her for such a short time says a lot about her character, and who she was as a human being. Following the outpouring of posts about her passing on social media, I know many others, who have known her for much longer, feel the same deep sense of loss that I feel.

Lee Lee, I will miss hearing the familiar sound of you saying ‘hey, hey’ in the morning when you came into the office. I will miss hearing you say, ‘I love this song’ every time a new song came on. And, most importantly, I will miss you. I didn’t know you for a long time, but I knew you well enough to know what a special person you were, and how different my life will be without you in it.

I will take what I can get

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It wasn’t much, but I wrote today. On the day between the anniversary of my mom’s passing, and my dad’s passing, my brain decided it was finally able to reconnect to the creative force that has been hidden deep within the recesses of my grey matter and combine words to construct meaningful sentences.

My initial plan for today was to edit the book I wrote last winter, but fate had a different plan. As I stared at the pages of words I had already written, my mind was consumed by the ideas for a novel I had previously outlined in my head. The voices were loud, and before I knew what I was doing my fingers were striking the familiar letters on my keyboard, and I, once again, had become captivated by the voices that had been silenced for so long.

It was nothing like the writing fugues I have experienced before, but the shiest of voices are welcome to disrupt my plans and speak loudly when they feel the need. Today, their need was heard and understood, and today my new book took on a life of its own.

What was once a pipe dream of a screen play has morphed itself into something I am more comfortable with, and something that I can tackle with free abandon. Today, I embarked on a new novel. The first few characters each have a strong will, and this will help guide me through the process of creating another story. Through their voices, and their tenacity, I hope this story will become something I am proud to share with them.

A long time coming

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I’m happy to say, after a six month delay, the sixth, and final, book in The Relative Series is officially out of my hands and waiting for approval from KDP Publishing (Amazon) before it goes live. It’s one thing to write a novel, but, as a self-published author, it is a whole other animal when it comes to formatting 250 pages of words to meet a specific set of guidelines to make sure my content crosses all the t’s and dots all the i’s.

Yesterday was a stressful day for me. After following the KDP outline for formatting, I received several error messages in regards to my formatting, even though I followed their guidelines to the letter. I did some deep breathing, had a glass of wine, and dove head-first into making the necessary changes before all the angry red exclamation points disappeared.

Once the final changes had been submitted, I sat back and breathed a huge sigh of relief. This is a moment I only envisioned four years ago, but never thought it would become a reality. Writing one novel is monumental in itself, but taking five other ideas and turning those ideas into a six-book series (thank you, Neil) is insane.

In one of the moments I took to breathe deeply, I thought of how extraordinary it would be if literary agents would collectively create a website that outlined exactly what they were looking for. Five bullet points: plot, genre, protagonist, antagonist, and location. So many authors, like me, would trip over themselves for the chance to create a story that literary agents were looking for. If their idea for a story was not in my wheelhouse, I would move on to the next suggestion. Somewhere, somehow, agents and authors should have a shared space where creativity could bring like minds together.

Until that day, I will sit back and begin the edits on the book I wrote last winter. It is a stand-alone novel based on the three cottages that once belonged to my family. Once I saw the movie ‘Hypnotic’, I knew hypnosis would play a big part in one of my books, and this is a story I can’t wait to share. Stay tuned.

Blurbs kill creativity

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There, I said it. The blurb that is required to be the summation of a novel will take every ounce of a writer’s creativity and send them into the darkest corner to ignore this required task and shudder in absolute horror. I’m sure I speak for other authors when I say, having to encapsulate 95,000 plus words in two or three paragraphs is torturous.

I can sit in front of a computer for months, listening to the voices in my head, and come up with an amusing, albeit disturbing, story. But having to create an ‘elevator pitch’ for this last book in my series is making my head spin. There is so much to say, and only so many words in which to say it.

‘Maniacal grandfather spawns a legacy of death and destruction’. It’s a good start, but it does not do justice to the end of The Relative Series. The five books leading up to this grand finale tell the tales of the people in his life who were affected by his choices, and the few words I have to describe this series is distressing.

I can only hope my brain will be able to create a log line that will draw the readers into the story and make them want to follow it from its beginning to its end. It has been an innovative journey for me, and one I hope you want to see to its conclusion.

As I spend the remaining hours of his day beating delicate words into submission, I can only hope the blurb I create will entice you to read this series of stories.

Imposter syndrome

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I am ashamed of myself, in more ways than one. I have willingly neglected this blog for the past three months, and I have recently allowed myself to, once again, bathe in the toxic water known as Imposter Syndrome.

Having just finished the first draft of my sixth novel, I should be elated. I should be patting myself on the back for creating another unique story that has never been told. Instead, I am doubting my ability to write. I am second guessing my talent as a storyteller, and I am apprehensive about reading the rough draft for fear the words have no depth or emotion and hold nothing of value to the reader.

I am sure every author has hit this wall in their writing journey more than once. The fear of not finding an audience for the stories we construct is paralyzing. The thought that I have toiled to combine over ninety-four thousand words and beat them into submission only to have the story fall flat is agonizing.

But somewhere under the somber veil of the debilitating malady known as imposter syndrome lies a beacon of hope. A tiny speck of light looms in the distance, and that light beckons me to continue. Reading stories by other authors has always been a way for me to draw from their strengths so I can become a better writer. But, tonight, I am hedging my bets and reading one of my own books. Of the five stories I have created, it is the one I am most proud to say I have written.

As I turn the pages on my Kindle, I am reminded of the passion I felt drafting this story. I am reclaiming the confidence I felt in myself, and I am slowly letting the water out of the toxic bath and watching the Imposter Syndrome circle the drain before it disappears.

I can do this. I can write.