May 10, 2013

Top 10 Things I Miss About Being a Stay at Home Mom

I recently got a job. I know, you roll your eyes because you too, work full-time. Well I haven’t worked full-time since before my children were born. That would be sixteen years to be specific. Since then, I’ve been at home, a volunteer in the classroom, running to the doctor’s office, grocery story, Tae Kwon Do, softball, basketball. You get the picture.

The job is contractual and I’m done October 1. I look very forward to it. So in honor of Mother’s Day I thought I’d share a few thoughts about why I miss being a stay-at-home mom and remember they’re in no particular order.

  1. My kids. Actually what I really miss is taking them places. No, I hate driving around for hours at a time. But at least while we’re in the car I have a chance to talk to them. They might not want to talk to me but at least they see and hear me.
  2. Sleeping in. It used to be 8:30 in the morning. Now sleeping in is roughly 5:30am. That is if I don’t have to wash my hair in the morning.
  3. Procrastinating. Yeah there’s something in the idea that there’s always time tomorrow. You might not get as much done but eventually you will.
  4. Napping. That’s self explanatory, because really who doesn’t like a good nap in the middle of the day?
  5. I miss stuff for my kids. I don’t like that. I’ve missed doctor’s appointments and track meets. I can’t always take off and be there, that’s a little disconcerting.
  6. Working on my book for lengthy periods of time. Now I have only a few hours and it might take all that time to finally get into the      groove. Now I have to accept a sentence as being good enough.
  7. Getting all my errands done when no one is around. It’s awfully crowded after work. I much prefer daytime shopping.
  8. Re-runs of Gilmore Girls. Since they’re on at 10 am I’m just not around to watch them. For some reason that show just make me happy.
  9. Not feeling so tired all the time. It’s exhausting getting up early and I can’t quite figure out how to make it to bed before 10:30 pm.
  10. Lunching with the ladies. Okay I really don’t lunch with the ladies but I could if I wanted to when I was at home. It’s simply knowing that makes it  worthwhile.

I’ve gotta admit though, the bonus to working outside the house is continuity, and having a place to go. It’s also about talking to real adults, gaining experience and possibly bringing something to my writing. Though I’m not writing as much as I’d like, I find myself far more productive in other ways and for that, I guess the experience is worth it. Not to mention at the end of the day, there’s always a pay check to enjoy.

It’s a change, and in the end I’m sure I’ll be used to it, just as the contract writing gig winds it’s way down and is done. Happy Mother’s Day!

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May 9, 2013

Third to First

I’ve written all my books in the third person, with complete control of the story as the narrator. It’s hard because I really want to share what’s going on in the characters head, but that’s not necessarily the job of a narrator. Besides, what I really want to do is drag you inside my head and show you the story. It’s the difference between me telling you what is happening and me letting you the reader experience the story as it happens.

First person allows the reader to know the main character and interpret events and actions similarly to that characters. You will either learn to love them or despise them depending on what actions they take in the framework of the story. Annie’s been living in my head for almost four years, and I desperately want people to love her as much as I do. Some have, others want more and still others just don’t care. That inspires me as a writer to find a new way to get inside the character’s head so that you can, if anything, like them. So as I re-write the books, I’ve made one major change. Annie’s going first person. I haven’t made the adjustment to The Day of First Sun or She Wulf yet, because the work involved is a little scary. There’s is so much that would need to come out and then re-written back in because it’s important to the story. I’m still not sure I’m ready to tackle that project they. But in Heavenly Gifts, I’ve already started, and yes it’s a re-write with twenty-five chapters finished.

The surprising thing for me is how effortless it is to tell the story from Annie’s perspective. It’s almost as if I’m possessed by her as she speaks. And I can let you know from the start how she’s feeling and what’s going on in the chaotic, warm, daring brain of hers. So when it’s finally finished, I hope you like her and I hope you like the new view.

 

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May 7, 2013

The Bad Stuff Becomes the Good

Why do we only dwell on the bad stuff that happens rather than the good? Well in my case it’s probably because there’s been so much bad. And each one of those bad things, I seem to have ended up on my feet rather than in a pit of despair. So why can’t I concentrate on those victories, because there have been many.

Though I watched my daughter survive an undiagnosed disease which she eventually succumbed to after eleven months, I have the choice to dwell only on her death or I can bask in the success I had during her life. Organizing a large nursing staff, prescriptions for narcotics (they’re given in triplicate), dealing with insurance, coordinating hospice, taking care of a healthy twin while doing all of this and living through stress and in the end, I gave her the best life I possibly could.

The point isn’t to applaud myself but to realize that sometimes, even when things are at it’s worst there might be something to take pleasure in or to be proud of even under extreme circumstances.

I must remember that when I feel myself a failure because the books are selling at all, or I’m having difficulty managing Twitter and the blog and my author Facebook page. I can’t just congratulate myself on the fact that I’ve written two books and have two more nearly finished.

Should I do that though? Simply accept that I accomplished the minimum and move forward. Or maybe what I should do is let my frustration fuel a desire to keep pushing, keep writing, make my books the best that I can so that maybe, all the hard work will eventually pay off and I can live the dream that I set for myself.

I think that in the end that’s what it’s all about. Accepting who you are and the accomplishments you have made while still striving for even more. We should always set our limits higher than we think we can go.

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May 2, 2013

What I’m Afraid Of

I’ve carried with me since childhood, a fear of water. Since I was six years old when I took swim lessons in Lake Zurich. I will never forget sitting on those wood docks, so old splinters would stick in your rear. They had us jump in. I felt nothing as I waited my turn, as others jumped in and were immediatly plucked from the water and returned to the dock.

When my turn came, I obliged my swim instructor, jumped in and waited, what seemed to be a lengthy time under the water. I still remember being completely submerged, staring at the ball of sun through the cloudy water wondering when they were going to pull me out. It was that one simple perceived inaction that left me terrified, frightened and still wakes me from sleep.

I managed to live with the fear as I grew up only sometimes being forced to deal with it. My PE teacher attempted to teach me to swim. She floated me to the deep end where I started to shake. Uncontrollable shakes and she gave up, before we even began, advising me that she’s never seen anyone more afraid of water than me.

I couldn’t hide from the water after my kids were born. I didn’t want to instill the fear in them and took on purpose swim lessons at the YMCA. After explaining to the teacher just how frightened I was, she nodded in understanding and worked on making me comfortable in the water. One day, she slipped a life jacket around my neck and floated me toward the deep end of the pool.

At the end of the pool while holding on to the edge, for the first time, I realized there was small ledge about two feet under the water. I enjoyed the sensation before climbing out of the water. As I stood at the edge of the pool looking into the deep end, my teacher said, “Jump In.” My brain said jump in, my legs said, “F#$# that!” She literally had to pull me in.

While there, I tried desperately to acclimate myself to the water, (I had a life jacket on you know), and as I doggy paddled, fear gripped me, my heart stuck in my throat and I ran, well swam away from the deep end. After all it’s water dreams of myself floating and sinking that still wake me from sleep.

We’re afraid of the unknown, afraid of losing ourselves in uncontrollable situations which is why the world of the supernatural and horror is so stimulating and gripping, because even as the fear takes hold of us, it’s safe and the turmoil only lives in our head.

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April 30, 2013

On Writing – Stephen King

I write in the supernatural. I read in the supernatural, horror, mystery, and thrillers. Preferring to read for the share entertainment of the stories and the characters, I enjoy the emotion, fear, and intensity I feel when I read such books by Stephen King or Agatha Christie or James Patterson. The good thing is, I can feel these emotions in the safety of my own home. It works out well for me, my sanity and my safety.

I first wanted to be a writer when I read Nancy Drew, I and was pulled in and hooked after reading Stephen King. I have no recollection as to the first book I read by him, and based on my age can only assume it was The Shining, Carrie or Salem’s Lot, but that’s not what’s important. All that’s important is remembering that feeling of reading something that made me angry, frightened, terrified or entertained. And as I worked my way through the Stephen King library, every new book sustained my desire to be a writer, to play a creator, discovering new worlds rich in imagination that make you experience and feel something.

When he came out with his autobiography of sorts, On Writing, I was blown away. For anyone who wants to be a writer, or is a writer, it’s inspirational, funny, honest and a little informative if you’re the type of writer who laps up constructive information, to learn anything you can about the craft.

Connecting with the book was easy and forced my to think about how I write my stories. How do I develop them and the characters? Am I a plotter or a pantser? As it turns out, Stephen King admits he’s a pantser making me realize that I’m not alone and I’m not wrong in my approach. Both of us start with a basic idea, maybe do a little research and then begin writing without a true sense of where the book will take us. He approaches it as an archeological dig, starting with the first hint of an artifact and continues to dig deeper, until the entire item reveals itself to him, just as his books do. He allows the story reveal itself to him rather than him dictating the story.

That’s exactly how I write my story. I start with a brief paragraph of what I think the story will be, do a little research and then set off to write the story. I let the story reveal itself to me, not as if it’s an artificial but rather as if I’m psychic and the story just reveals itself. I experience the story as a reader would not as the writer, full of the surprised, tension and happiness or sadness depending on the storyline.

It’s an amazing way to write a book, to feel the emotion that the reader might feel, experiencing the twists and turns, much like I hope you will too. That makes me a pantser, a writer who writes by the seat of their pants. It’s a little chaotic, but a thrilling ride. If it’s good enough for Stephen King, it’s most definitely good enough for me.

 

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April 26, 2013

Finding Yourself and Fitting In

My daughter was recently called a lesbian. Now there are so many directions I can go with this. Do I discuss the twelve-year-old boy (from here on out know as the ignoramus), or do I, tell you the reason why he called her that or finally, do I rant about how totally insensitive and disappointing it is that someone uses that word as an analogy to mean a bad thing?

Still unsure of how to approach this in writing, I’ll start at the beginning of the story, the place where my tomboy daughter asked to have her hair cut. She fell in love with the movie Le Miserables, with Eddie Redmayne (Maurius), with Anne Hathaway’s hair cut she wore at the Oscars.

Though her hair wasn’t super long, she could still wear it in a small and adorable pony tail; but she really was drawn to the short style. As she debated about cutting her hair so short, she came across a lot of support from me and her friends and then, she ran into the opposite of support. Her sixth grade boyfriend hated the idea of the short cut and eventually broke up with her over it. Yeah, I’m not making this up. I hugged my daughter, told her I was proud of her for not letting anyone tell her what do to or what to think and for eventually going through with the shorter hair style, even if that meant she lost her first boyfriend. Frankly, he could be named here on out as ignoramus number one.

Weeks later, at a school dance, original ignoramus, unprovoked called her a lesbian, all over her short hair style. She came home and cried. It had been rough since her boyfriend broke up with her. The boys picked on her for that and for her short style. And then this.

I told her that people who call her names are ignorant and mean and she deserves better. I am so proud of her for standing up for herself. I’ve always tried to teach my kids that people are born the way they are born and we need to be respectful of that.

I’m so sad for her because all of these things made her change her mind about her hair. She’s contemplating growing it back. While she’s tired of people judging her based on her looks, she feels she must conform on some level, letting people know she’s a girl. She now struggles to find out how to do this on her own terms. It’s a struggle we all go through in some way, every day.

While we wish for our kids only happiness and a world without pain but it doesn’t happen, no matter how hard we try. I just wish people would raise their children to be more accepting of others, because as I tell my children, people are people just like us. We may not always agree with them, but it wouldn’t hurt to be nice and respectful.

 

 

 

 

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April 23, 2013

One Rant and then I’m Done

Okay. I’ll admit, I watched a few minutes of a few episodes of one of the Kardashian’s many mind numbing shows. Not because I was curious but because I wanted to know why. I still want to know why the television audience is bent on a bunch of rich people make asses of themselves? Well actually I think I can figure that one out, besides being totally ridiculous it gives us something to point and laugh at.

I purposely avoid anything to do with any of the reality television stars. I refuse to join their clubs, watch their shows, buy their books, perfume and shoes, because I really don’t want my hard earned cash landing in their talentless pockets. It’s frustrating for me to see how many people are willing to purchase books written by Snookie, Skinny Bitch and Lauren Conrad, when I struggle to get mine noticed.

Frankly at this point I’m simply tired of them baring it all. I really don’t need another naked, pregnant celebrity gracing any magazine covers, or shooting pictures of themselves on vacation, or tweeting about their bling, because I don’t think they’re any better than me except in one major arena. Marketing.

What I think I’ve since discovered is the fact that what they are really good at is marketing themselves. Getting themselves out there, putting it on the line, letting it all hang out.

I try to write a good role, a strong female character who’s real and complex in a world that seems to only value roles models who are self absorbed and lead seemingly meaningless lives in comparison to the rest of us. It’s sad because we can only find strong female role models in the form of science fiction/fantasy characters. Is that because we can only accept them as such in a world that’s not quite so real?

Honestly, I really have no problem with the guilty little pleasure. What I have is a problem when the guilty little pleasure has a bigger presence in the world than it should have for as long as it has, more infamous than famous. Only we can stop the onslaught.

Oka, now I’m done. Is your guilty pleasure really cool, really dorky, really original? Share it here.

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April 18, 2013

How Zola Got Her Charge

Preparing for a book – even a supernatural book – I do a little research. When I was planning The Day of First Sun, I needed to find a type of fairy that would be a nanny to a magical child. I came across the Aloja Fairy, protector of pregnant women and children. Perfect.

I used the small bit of info that I found in one book, and ran with that small snipet, since I didn’t reference the fairy much. Not until I decided to expand on the story. I needed more. So I searched for Aloja Fairy online. As it turned out at the time, both my blog and my book listed on Amazon.com popped up in the search results. Apparently, I was the Aloja Fairy expert.

When creating a new world it’s easy to make it up as you go along. You start with an idea – do a little research – and make the ideas work for your story. But I needed to expand on what I had already learned. So I clicked to every link that appeared until I could get a full picture of what my Aloja Fairy would be like. I changed her hair color, added deep pools of black eyes when she got angry, I made her vain, and she grew up in the Catalan region of Spain; a clearer picture, a life and somewhere in there a fuller story.

It’s all make believe, but if you base it in some kind of tradition, you can make fantasy seem a little like reality. Maybe a little.  That’s where the prologue to an untitled Annie Loves Cham novel was born. How Zola Got Her Charge.

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April 16, 2013

CSI: Supernatural

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When reading old book reviews for The Day of First Sun, I came across something that didn’t resonate with me the first time I read it. This second reading hit me and stuck with me. The book was described by the blogger as a supernatural CSI. I hadn’t thought of it that way before and I smiled because it’s always nice to be compared to such a succesfull entity.

When writing query letters to agents, trying to get their attention, I sometimes find myself at a loss to explain why my book is so special, what makes it different than the hundreds of already published supernatural books available. It was then that I decided, that was my approach. CSI: Supernatural.

Crime Scene Investigators evaluate crime complex crime scenes, homicides, sexual offenses and robberies. They use advanced equipment and techniques as they collect, handle and package evidence.

The difference with Annie and Cham is their advanced equipment isn’t actually equipment, its magic, their tools; crystals, potions and spells. Both examine the crime scene and evaluate the evidence, regardless of how they come across it. Interested?

Excerpt from The Day of First Sun:

Knowing she had died in the back of the suite, they spent most of their energy tracking magical trace toward the bedroom while Spencer began investigating in the common areas in order to get a full picture of what happened in the space.

They each held an epidote rock, a dark green crystal which allows them to follow magical trace still hanging in the air.

“So what are you exactly doing?” Jack asked as they each walked with a crystal in their hand. Each crystal glowed as they walked in what appeared to be disjointed circles.

“This takes samples of magical energy. When we have a suspect we can compare it to their magical trace. We can also tell what spell was cast.” Annie said without looking up.

“Like Magical DNA.” Jack surmised.

“Sure go with that.” Spencer said, highly amused.

“So how long does magical energy last, in the air?”

“A magical trace is left over energy. We can track it for about a week, and the longer it’s out there the weaker it is. We can determine roughly when the spell was cast.” Jack followed Annie down the hall; stopped and Jack not paying attention ran into her.

“Sorry.” He said. Seeing the exchange, Cham made to walk toward them, but his trace changed direction again.

“What did you find?” Cham asked instead.

“The trace is weaker back toward the bedroom. She must have been killed first and then a battle of some kind out here.” Annie pointed in the direction of the trace and back down the hallway.

“How many traces do you have?” Jack looked over Annie’s shoulder noticing the color of her glow was different than the rest, each having their own unique glow.

“At least three down here.” Cham said, his trace now leading him in between Annie and Jack. He pushed his way between them, stopping at Annie.

“So what do you think, Annie?” Jack asked moving around Cham, who was a few inches taller than him and twenty pounds. He ignored the Wizard Guard, and looked to Annie for an answer.

“Well, depending on what trace we find in there, and what Spencer has out in the living room, my guess is, they entered through the bedroom, killed her and then came out this way. If there’s this much trace from at least three people, I’m guessing Jordan didn’t kill her. They were probably ambushed, but we won’t know until we analyze the trace and find Jordan,” she surmised as the entered the bedroom.

The Day of First Sun, available on Amazon.com.

 

 

 

 

 

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April 10, 2013

Sturtagaard Doesn’t Sparkle Even Though Edward Cullen Does

Before they became the, it thing, they were monsters; wicked beings without souls. So scary was the concept of the vampire, early cultures used them as an embodiment of all evil. The soul being what makes us human and them, the vampire without. So what the hell happened? How did they go from beings of the devil, missing their humanity, to loved, admired, and dare I say it, sexy boyfriends?

I like my monsters to be the embodiment of evil, to terrorize and then be vanquished with a large pointy stick. We should be so lucky to relieve ourselves of our problems that easily.

Vampire folk in lore dates back Mesopotamia, where inscribed on pottery was tales of blood sucking monsters and through history many other cultures adopted a form of that type of monster.

Vampire fear came to a head in the 18th century, where a frenzy of vampire sightings occurred in Transylvania leading to grave robbers identifying and staking potential vampires. When government officials took part in the staking and killing of the dead bodies, mass hysteria broke out leading to the “18th Century Vampire Controversy.”

So really, how did it get to this fevered pitch where people want to date them? What happened to these monsters, once restricted to life in dark and shadows to now sparkling in the sunlight as if a four-year old dumped glitter all over them? Where the standard is now Edward Cullen, sullen, cranky and frankly not someone I’d want to date, I stand strong and shake my head. I prefer mine to be ridiculously evil, snarky and brilliantly fun.

The vampire known as Sturtagaard, aware that his greatest nemesis currently tracked him, had planned on lying low, but a primal hunger overcame him forcing him to hunt. From an open window in his temporary lair, he gazed out onto the street below as he pondered his next meal. Not an area filled with tourists, it did see plenty of foot traffic, though most ordinary people wouldn’t be compelled to come to this side of the town.

Quickly weakening without a source of blood to feed on, he still took time to search for the right prey because for the vampire, feeding under duress felt so crude. Sturtagaard preferred to take his time; enjoyed seducing his quarry and playing with them before finally taking their lives. But now, with his feeding so late, his hand shook in his lap as he finally realized he couldn’t afford to be choosy and he would have to settle for someone off the street, someone like…her.

For more about Sturtagaard, the vampire who doesn’t sparkle, read The Day of First Sun on Amazon.com.

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