Laurel-Rain Snow's Blog

This is an excerpt from one of my other blogs: http://laurel-rainsnowsaccidentallife.bl...



So much of what you will read in my novels sprang from real-life events. And the incidents in "An Accidental Life" are no different.

It is no accident (pun intended!) that the story is set in California's Central Valley, since I have made my home here for many years.

The issues confronting the character Karin Larson, whom you meet in the opening pages, are not unlike my own. I, too, had intended to follow a different career path and somehow "ended up" in social work.

Of course, at the very beginning of my life, when I fell in love with books and the written word, I wanted to be a writer. But the pathway to that particular dream was twisted indeed!

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had made different choices. Like Karin Larson, whose thoughts meander along that pathway, we conclude that our choices, accidental or otherwise, DO inform our lives. And, for the most part, these choices are irreversible.

So what we try to do is learn to accept the paths we've taken, and if we are not happy with the outcome, perhaps we can still make better choices in the future.

After many years in social work, I was finally able to realize my dream of writing a novel. And then I wrote four more! I am currently working on another one—in between my blogging adventures!—and hope to finish it at some point in the not-too-distant future.

As a nod to "borrowing from real-life" for my novels, the cover of "An Accidental Life" shows an A-frame house that I once owned in the foothills.

In this excerpt from "An Accidental Life," the character Melody's deepest secret has come to light. And now she must tell her lover all about it.


As the shadows lengthened, hinting of twilight, Melody still sat in the chair by the window, the half-empty cup of tea before her. It had long ago gone cold. Her heart had turned into a stone, weighing heavily in her chest.

Next door, Hugh had noticed when the social workers left and waited for Melody to appear.


FOR THE REST OF THE BLOG POST:

http://laurelrainsnowcreations.blogspot....

Excerpt from my newest blog, "Laurel-Rain Snow's Stardust Dreams," dedicated to my novel "Chasing Stardust."


What are your fantasies?

A lot of what you fantasize and dream about was born with you, in your unique time and place. Your family circle, your world, as it enfolds and shapes you.

For women, like me, who grew up in the fifties and sixties, we were socialized to believe in love and love’s transforming power. Some of us still cling (a bit!) to those beliefs.

For the rest of the blog, click here:

http://chasingstardust.wordpress.com/200...

Recently, I had the pleasure of meeting Sheila on the Book Blogs site, after which she invited me to do a guest blog; today she posted an interview she did with me, which she has posted on her site "Journey through Books."

Here is the link to that interview:

http://bookjourney.wordpress.com/authors...

Hope you check it out and let me know your reactions.

They looked like escapees from some suburban commune, Carly mused, suppressing a giggle as she pushed her shopping cart along, slightly behind Eve and Aileen, who were now studying the fresh produce. As if conducting scientific research. How utterly self-important they could be! Everything they did took on status in their own eyes, as if housework and shopping were part of some highfalutin domestic art.

Studying the two from a distance, Carly noticed that they even seemed to dress alike these days. What was up with that? Aileen wore what looked like a tennis outfit, with a matching sweater tied loosely around her shoulders. Eve’s outfit differed only in the color she had chosen. Hers was yellow, compared to Aileen’s white with pale blue trim. And yellow was definitely not her color, Carly thought, observing Eve’s sallow complexion.

“Hey, Carly,” Aileen called out in a musical tone. “You’re lagging. Look at the asparagus. It’s absolutely perfect for that dish Eve’s making next Saturday.”

Ugh, Carly groaned inwardly. Eve’s turn on Saturday meant her own wasn’t far behind.

But she pasted a huge smile on her face and shoved her cart hurriedly in their
direction, glancing at the asparagus and nodding approval. She still hadn’t decided what her own menu would be, but there was no way she could do French cuisine, as Aileen had, or even whatever Eve was planning. It was a closely guarded secret, but now she knew that it probably would include asparagus. And also that Aileen was privy to whatever choices or themes Eve had chosen thus far. Feeling left out, even as she inwardly knew that belonging to this particular club was sheer boredom at times, Carly’s throat held that little catch in it. The one that signaled the beginning of that all-familiar anxiety.

She pretended to be listening and observing, but her mind catapulted back to a day long ago.

In my fourth novel, I went out on a limb, creating a character engulfed in the tyranny of child abuse – an entangling web that informs her life for decades.

We first meet Margaret Elaine Graham – later called Meg – at the age of ten, as she struggles to make sense of the dynamics of her controlling family life. Despite the constraints that often overwhelm her, she finds escape – with her school studies, in her books, and even in some of her friendships – despite the restrictions that often interfere with her goals. For example, she has to hide books under her mattress, because her tyrannical father’s fundamentalist beliefs do not allow for most of her book choices.

Throughout her childhood experiences and the abuse, some of which she will not remember for many years, Meg keeps her eye on the prize – freedom and an escape to a different kind of life.

Unfortunately, some of her choices along the way thwart her goals, including her marriage to Bob Williams – a professional businessman she meets while in college. He is not who he appears to be, and stifled by the control freak that outwardly seemed nothing like her father, Meg hangs in there until after she achieves her college degree. By then, she has a young child, but taking a leap of faith, Meg reinvents herself – as Lainey Graham – and carves out a life that includes friends, involvement in the radical causes of the day, and a career that will hold meaning for her. Most of all, her choices must provide the freedom from all tyranny.

Meg/Lainey greets her quest with trepidation at times, and along the way, she battles alcohol addiction. Therapy sessions provide some of the answers she seeks and open a door onto the secret betrayals of early childhood.

Carly Bennett Donovan drove through commuter traffic to her office downtown. Her last glance in the full-length mirror in her bathroom had reassured her that she looked as if she could face the day. Today would be another in a series of conflict-driven meetings with her clients, those she had served for the past ten years as a court mediator. Her previous career as a social worker had left her feeling frustrated and powerless, leading her to explore other options. She still wondered if that had been a wise move.

Too late for second thoughts, she commanded herself, as she pulled into her parking space near the juvenile court. Today’s meetings would involve the usual clients whose children had been removed, and who now would fight the system, attempting to reduce the strength of the
allegations against them through mediation. Carly’s role would be to facilitate this process and in the end, make a recommendation to the court….


And then it began, this day like all others, with numerous demands crowding in upon her and partially assuaging the angst she felt every day.

If she had set out to choose a career that could successfully atone for the past, she had chosen well.

But at moments throughout the day, her thoughts slid backwards, despite her best efforts, and she could almost see that younger, idealistic version of herself. That girl who had believed in endless possibilities, who had fought the system hell-bent on winning. That young woman who had ignored her ideals in one summer of foolish choices, transforming herself from a fresh young thing with her whole life ahead of her into this woman of today, who often longed for yesterday and a clean slate with fresh options.

SPRING 1976

They drove slowly down the tree-lined streets, anxiously scrutinizing each door.

“Are you sure this is the right street?” Carly’s voice resonated with anticipation. Tonight would be an important event in their lives. Arriving on time and at the right place was crucial.

“Of course,” David reassured her. “See, I have it written down.” He thrust the piece of paper toward her, reminding her of a moment years earlier when he had scribbled his phone number on a slip of scratch paper. That night when they had first met.

She laughed, feeling the joy of renewal. And that flush of young love again.

They had hoped to resurrect that love when they had first moved here, when David had signed the contract to teach in this Central Valley town, miles south of their home in Sacramento. A place she had thought they would stay forever. That had been five years ago.

Stifling the brief regret, she smiled up at him and continued to search for the address.

“There it is,” she pointed with excitement to the house on their right. Through the green shuttered windows of the stucco bungalow, the lights from within seemingly beckoned them forward.

Moments later they were surrounded by the gaiety of the group clustered together for this cause.

Their host and hostess, Aileen and Phillip Dalton, seemed to have it all. Their home showcased antiques and collectibles arranged artfully with just the right lighting. And yet the house looked both lived-in and attractive, as if they comfortably hosted these gatherings on a regular basis. Aileen greeted them warmly and led them down the hallway to the master bedroom, where Carly stashed her purse. She noticed the filmy canopy over the bed, contrasting seductively to the dark wood of the bed. She glimpsed a room next to the bedroom, one that must be their office. She saw a nameplate on the corner of the desk – Aileen Goldsmith Dalton. It looked impressive. They passed the room where the Daltons’ daughter Destiny was already tucked in for the night, with not a peep from her to suggest the parental responsibilities they shared.

Carly glanced enviously at Aileen’s hostess gown, cut low to showcase her cleavage. She wore her dark hair curly – it was probably natural, since it looked so effortless. Carly’s gaze followed her progress through the room as she smiled, just slightly seductively, at each of the men. But just when she thought she would have to hate the woman, Aileen turned and gifted Carly with a wonderfully welcoming smile. “You look positively smashing tonight, Carly. Has anyone ever told you that you look like the actress Diane Keaton?”

Glowing from the unexpected compliment, Carly felt the envy slipping away.

“No, of course not,” she replied hastily, but smiled gratefully at the hostess, this woman who could probably be one of her best friends. If she could ignore certain qualities.

And then Carly’s attention was drawn toward the other couple from the neighborhood core group.

Eve and Randolph Carson lived catty-corner from the Daltons. In contrast to Aileen Goldsmith Dalton, Eve was a little gray mouse. Small and thin, Eve wore her dun brown hair in a pageboy, similar to the style worn by the actress Bonnie Franklin, but without the reddish color that gave it pizzazz. Her pale face, dotted with freckles, looked serious most of the time. She almost seemed disapproving, as she cast her glance about the room. She seemed to light up, though, when Aileen spoke to her. Carly guessed that Aileen had that special gift that made her such a good hostess. She zeroed in on each person as if he or she was truly special.

Crowding closer to his wife, as if the two were attached at the hip, Randolph glowered. His somber and angular face seemed almost sinister. But then when he smiled, the unforgiving angles softened somewhat, almost rendering him jovial. Almost. But nobody would ever call him “Randy,” or any other such playful nickname. As severe as his name was, it definitely suited him.

“Hi, Carly,” the Carsons greeted her in unison. “Where’s David?”

“Oh, he’s around,” Carly replied vaguely, pretending not to feel anxious about David’s penchant for socializing with everyone, to the point of ignoring her. “He’s a mingler,” she added, as if proud of him.

Eve fastened a knowing gaze upon her, a slight smirk tugging at her thin lips.

Carly wondered about that, but before she could ponder it further, David swooped in with two full glasses of champagne. “Let’s party,” he commanded, steering Carly forward into the group that huddled around the fireplace. She glanced briefly over her shoulder to see Eve and Randolph studying her. But then they both smiled.
***