Talena Winters's Blog, page 21
June 8, 2017
The Healing Power of Community
I have heard it said many times that everyone grieves differently. From experience, I know it to be true.
How we grieve depends on a lot of factors--prior experience with grief, the many facets and dynamics involved in the loss, our personalities, and more.
I've been through the grief cycle many times in my life, but as far as losing someone to a traumatic death, it has happened twice--my son, Levi, and my grandmother, Martha.
I just called her Grandma.
Grandma died in a car accident when I was twenty years old. I was still living at home, about to enter my first year of college.
As the oldest grandchild, and having often been told how much I reminded family members of my grandmother, I had always felt a special connection to her. After my parents split when I was fifteen, my grandmother (who lived only 3/4 mile down the road) had become even more important to me. She was the one I called when I struggled with a recipe, or needed the voice of wisdom.
When she died, I shared that loss with my rather large extended family. But for the most part, I grieved her alone. I was a granddaughter, not a daughter, and I hadn't even seen her before she died, despite having driven through the night to try to reach her in time. I had friends who empathized, but the loss, while significant, is still something I dealt with largely on my own. So I thought that this was how grief was handled.
Then Levi died.
A post shared by Talena Winters (@talenawinters) on Jun 3, 2017 at 8:44pm PDT
By the time we had left the hospital that dreadful morning--a mere two hours after arriving--there was already a voice mail on my phone offering casseroles and help from the music teacher's association in my town.
My sister was already looking for flights up from Seattle, and was on her way hours later. Our friends Wes and Serena, who live sixteen hours away, piled their four kids into a van as soon as they heard the news and drove until they got here, taking the next week to just spend time with us and bless us (and cook for us!)
Two of my closest local friends were at our house within half an hour of when we returned home, doing our dishes and spending time mourning with us. By that night, they had coordinated meals for us for several weeks, (which would turn into about a month of meals supplied by our church family and community friends.)
Other friends had arrived with lawn tractors and a passel of teenage boys to get our yard into shape for the family that would soon be arriving for the funeral. Another friend offered to be the liaison between us and the funeral parlour, handling most of the arrangements so we didn't have to fuss about small decisions when we could barely cope with getting out of bed.
The list goes on. Another friend texted me every day for weeks, and frequently thereafter for up to a year, with encouraging words, scripture, and prayers. The outpouring of support and encouragement we received through social media and other online forms of communication from friends and strangers alike was overwhelming in its magnitude. A friend from Arkansas who couldn't come sent the biggest bunches of helium balloons I have ever seen in my life. There were more kindnesses than I could possibly list here. Suffice it to say, it was a LOT.
When the funeral was over, and the company had left, and we still had friends here, and others who came back later to support us when the hubbub died down, and on and on, Jason and I just looked at each other in amazement and gratitude.
"This has totally raised the bar in how we will help someone grieving from now on," he said.
I could only agree.
Two years later, we are still completely humbled when we consider the massive wave of support we received. I am convinced that the support of our community through that first difficult year had a good deal to do with the progress we made in our healing. Yes, the work of grief must be done on an individual basis. But knowing that we were never alone had a significant impact on how brave we were in approaching that work.
I am convinced that the support of our community through that first difficult year had a good deal to do with the progress we made in our healing.
Now that I am stronger, and can help others carry their burdens of grief, people have often shared with me their "secret" losses--parents or husbands or babies that have died and others have barely acknowledged their pain. There was no community rallying around them to share their load.
Each time I hear a story like this, my heart breaks--knowing how much it helps to have others walk with you and give you some balloons to help lighten your boulder.
So, even though I am inadequate, I do it. I reach over and put my hand under that boulder for a little while, because I know how hard it is to carry. And I also grieve for the beautiful soul that has had to carry so much of their pain on their own.
I have often wondered why it is that we were so blessed with support and others have had to walk such a lonely road through their pain. I believe that there are probably many contributing factors, but the most significant may be the community that they are a part of.
[image error]
Aspen grove at Leddy Lake.
A Forest Community
On Monday morning, I went on an interpretive nature walk with Jabin's class at a local lake. The first part of the walk was up out of the valley through young forest populated with aspen (a.k.a. white poplar). The guide explained how aspens are shallow-rooted, but they propagate by runners. He described the forest floor beneath our feet as a mass of interwoven roots of aspen, and how it was this tangled dependency that enables them to remain standing and reach for the sky. If someone creates a road through a stand of aspen, he explained, most of the trees on the windward side fall down, because they no longer have the support of the trees beside them.
As we descended nearer to the lake, we reached the more mature forest, populated mostly with spruce. Unlike aspen, spruce propagates through seeds. While trees standing near each other might have slightly tangled roots, in general, each tree is its own entity. If you build a road through spruce, you will not need to worry about a bunch of those remaining falling down. And if a spruce falls, the only trees it damages are the ones it hits on the way down.
I've been thinking about those trees ever since. I have often heard poplars referred to as "weeds" because they so quickly move in and take over when given the chance, they grow fast and are short-lived, and they are shallow-rooted and are easily blown down at the edges of stands of trees. On the other hand, spruce in the north has the same connotation as oak in other parts of the world--evergreens are the strong ones, the unchanging ones, the backbone of the forest.
But if a spruce falls in the woods, none of the other trees care. They're just happy that they get some extra sunshine.
Stronger TogetherIn our own lives, we often think it is strength to not show our weakness to anyone and to be able to handle all of our problems on our own. So we don't get involved. We keep to ourselves. We don't share our pain with others, which means we also do not share our gifts and talents, nor do we share our friendship, joy, and love.
But when tragedy strikes us, and one of those few who are a part of our small community is lost, there are even fewer remaining who can help us bear the pain of it. (This is not the only reason for a small personal community, but in today's interconnected world, it still happens surprisingly often.)
I had always considered myself to have a small life. I served and loved and was a friend in my introverted way, and often felt afflicted by selfishness that I was not as outgoing and involved as others.
I had no idea the breadth and depth of our family's community until tragedy struck us. I immediately discovered that our lives were not so small as I had thought. Our roots felt shallow to us, but they were tangled with so many others that an enormous group of people were willing to share our pain.
And we are grateful. That word isn't even strong enough. We are beyond grateful. Especially because we know that this is not how it works for many people.
Which is why, now, I look for others who may be hurting quietly. They may not have a community supporting them. But they still need support. They need the other trees around them to help them stand up again. Even if they don't realize it.
The trick is, trying to figure out who those people are. When someone looks like a spruce, we may have no idea the wounds they carry close to their heart.
I am learning to look past my assumption that someone may be too strong to need or want help. No one is that strong. And almost everyone carries pain about something.
I am learning to look past my assumption that someone may be too strong to want help. No one is that strong. And almost everyone carries pain about something.
This is something I am still working on. Honestly, I have just recently gotten to the point that I feel strong enough to help someone else carry their burden. I finally have some balloons to give. Now, I need to learn to SEE who needs them ... even when they don't ask.
Who do you know who is grieving? Don't assume you have nothing to give. And don't assume that their loss was so long ago that it doesn't matter. You would be amazed how far a simple "I was thinking of you and [your loss] today," will go. One of the things that makes a grieving person the saddest is thinking that others no longer remember the loved one they lost. Let them know you do. And that you care that they lost them.
And if it is you who needs the balloon, have you told anyone? Others may want to help you, but they won't if they don't know you need it.
It can be difficult to ask for someone to care about your loss, but be brave. Say something. You may be surprised how many others your roots have touched who want to help you stand again.
A post shared by Talena Winters (@talenawinters) on Jun 3, 2017 at 11:40am PDT
May 26, 2017
Book Review: Endless Change by P.D. Workman
This spring, I had the opportunity to beta-read a novel for Calgary author P.D. Workman, who writes stories in the YA genre. Since she has just released it, I get to share it with you at last!
Endless Change
By P.D. Workman
In a genre dominated by kick-ass heroines in post-apocalyptic dystopian worlds, wizards and magical realism, Ms. Workman is carving out her own niche. Her books show us real kids facing scary real-life problems in the modern world. Her work is both an invitation to empathy and a cautionary tale—there but for the grace of God go we all.
In Endless Change, Parker is a fourteen-year-old boy with a compassionate heart and heavy responsibilities—helping his single mom care for a passel of younger siblings. But he bears the load willingly, even planning his future career path to allow him to help the family as long as necessary. He has a passion for helping, especially injured animals that he comes across. If he sees a need that he can fill, he does.
One day on his way to school, he meets Dakota Phillips, a young woman he finds looking in the garbage for food. She reminds him of an injured bird, with her feathery pink hair and desperate eyes. Feeling compelled to help her, he has soon arranged to have her enrolled in his school and has even found her a place to stay.
Dakota’s vulnerable and bubbly personality soon have Parker falling for her, hard. She does have a tendency to lie and to shirk all responsibility, but with her background of foster homes and abusive dads, Parker thinks he understands why. He likes her, and doesn’t care what she’s been through before as long as he can help her now.
Unfortunately, Dakota is not all that she seems to be, and soon Parker is caught up in a legal investigation that he is sure is all based on a misunderstanding. He struggles to fulfill his self-appointed responsibilities while trying to negotiate adult problems in a child’s body.
This coming-of-age novel deals with love, responsibility, and the question of growing up. Ms. Workman’s portrayal of Parker—a child on the brink of manhood—is compassionate, well-wrought, and sympathetic. Her tone is never judgmental or preachy as she shows us how everyone involved is only trying to do their best with what they have—even if they have different ideas of what the solutions should be.
The next time one hears of a case like this on the news and wonders “how on earth would that ever happen?”, perhaps there will be a second thought—that he may have just been a good kid trying to do the right thing who got involved with someone confounded by the intricacies of adulting. After all, as we all know—growing up is hard to do.
May 23, 2017
Behind-the-Scenes of "Finding Heaven"
Once upon a time, I began a blog. This blog.
I was hosted on Blogger then. My amazing, witty, and word-smithy friend Colleen had just invited me to read her new blog, thus introducing me to both a word and a world that I had never known existed. I had no idea how important both would become for me.
Blogging gave me a much-needed creative outlet, and community, at a time when my days revolved around dirty diapers and breaking up childhood spats. In those early years, I blogged a lot.
Then, I began to get comments along the lines of "You should write a book."
I need material to do that kind of thing, I thought. Writing about my life? That was easy. Writing stuff I made up?
Not so much.
The Question that Turned Me Into a NovelistThen, sometime around 2012, I was watching a mermaid show--H2O: Just Add Water, I believe. (Don't judge me.) Anyway, while watching that show, a question occurred to me:
"Where are all the mermen?"
My brain wouldn't let that question go. And before long, I had answered it, and built a world, and had three solid book ideas that I thought I could write. (Still haven't written them. Maybe next?)
Digital painting by the amazing Susan Schroder, whom I have already decided will be the graphic artist designing the covers of my mermaid novels. Image used by permission. (Available from her website: http://susanschroder.com/)
The only problem is, I still knew next to nothing about writing fiction, or what it took to be a successful novelist.
Fortunately, at some point, I had found the website of Holly Lisle, who teaches novel-writing for a living (when she's not writing her own fantastic speculative fiction.) She was launching an updated and improved version of her six-month novel-writing course, How to Think Sideways. And I decided to take it.
Since I've already shared how I wrote my first novel, The Friday Night Date Dress, as practice while taking the course, I'd say, "The rest is history", but there is a reason I brought that up specifically in this post. In one of the lessons (and in other resources like her free newsletter), Holly mentioned an author friend of hers that is very successful, but actually hates what she writes and has nothing but contempt for the fans who read it.
Her point was to emphasize how important it is as authors that we write about things that matter to us. It was a point I took to heart.
But, like you are probably wondering right now, her story prompted a question in my brain: "Why would that author write something she hates?"
I think all great stories probably begin with a question that the author has to answer for themselves. Thus it was that, in 2012, while I was learning how to create a career as a writer, I also got the seed idea that eventually bloomed into my second novel, Finding Heaven.
I think all great stories probably begin with a question that the author has to answer for themselves. Thus it was that, in 2012 while I was learning how to create a career as a writer, I also got the seed idea that eventually bloomed into Finding Heaven.
Five Years Later...
There have been many iterations and false starts on this story since then, not to mention several other pieces of inspiration to fill out the story. Even after I got the final missing pieces in the fall of 2015 and began writing the book, the process took much longer than I'd anticipated.
Of course, the book ended up much longer than I'd anticipated, too.
And that's okay. :-)
This book has been hugely instrumental for me as I have worked through my grief at the loss of my son.
It has also been a huge learning curve about the process of writing, understanding story structure, and how to find my story when all seems lost in the swamp. I wrote my first book primarily on instinct. This book was way too long and complicated for that, and after breaking my story a couple of times, I had to really figure out what I wanted to say so I could fix it.
(Incidentally, the same Colleen that inspired me to become a blogger has also been one of my greatest cheerleaders and inspirations while completing this project. I'm pretty sure I'd still be at the "just-kill-them-all" stage if it weren't for her.)
But then, almost a month ago, I finished the book--in my head. I spent one sleepless night laying as still as possible so as not to disturb my light-sleeper husband, but with my brain working overtime as I sketched out every scene from where I was to the end of the book, finally getting a couple of hours sleep once the whole thing was completed.
I ran on adrenaline for days, and for the next two weeks, I set new personal bests for daily word count as I pounded the story out.
A post shared by Talena Winters (@talenawinters) on May 8, 2017 at 10:45am PDT
Apparently, when I'm in the home stretch of writing a book, it is just as sleep-reducing as reading one--except writing it takes longer! I probably wrote as many words in those two weeks as my entire first book is long! Since then, I have been revising and tweaking it. Then, on Saturday, I finally sent it out to beta readers.
Since Saturday afternoon, I have been slowly coming back to reality, like a typical "book hangover" times ten.
What's NextI have about a month before my beta readers' deadline to get their notes back to me, then my editor will have a crack at it, and then I will finally get to publish it.
I have a bit of a dream that I will have some copies in hand when I go to the When Words Collide conference in August, but that may be pushing the bounds of the miraculous.
At any rate, it's so strange to finally be finished this story. Two months ago, I was despairing that I would ever finish it, and just wanted to "kill them all and start something new."
Now that it's almost done, I absolutely love the story I have. And I am so excited about starting those new things, knowing that the last thing counts as a success. (It's finished, so it was successful.)
But before I begin my next adventure, there are a few things that I need to tick off my list in the "real world". And I'm so glad that I get to enjoy the summer that has finally arrived in the Peace Country without a deadline hanging over my head!
Image courtesy of Lightstock.com.
Peace Country Writers
Before I close I wanted to mention that I was honoured recently to be listed on an invitation-only website for local Peace Country Writers, one I had never heard of before. In exploring the website, I found almost a dozen other local authors in all kinds of genres that I had also never heard of before. Because of that, I thought I would share this link with you so you can take a gander and see if you can find a new local author to love.
One of the first things up on my list this week?
Plant my garden!
How are you today, friend?
May 2, 2017
Book Review: That Wicked Earl by Jessica L. Jackson
Last year I joined the Alberta Romance Writer's Association for one reason and one reason only: critique groups. I needed accountability partners to keep me pushing forward on my book and my craft.
Well, I have been so grateful for the two ladies I get to talk to every Monday night, Sue Bergman and Jessica Jackson. They have become friends through our sessions, and have definitely helped me become a better writer. Finding Heaven will be a much better book because of them.
Last weekend, Jessica published the book she has been working on since we met. Here is the blurb and my review of it. It was a true joy to read!
That Wicked Earl (A Winsome Regency Romance)
By Jessica L. Jackson
Blurb:
Revenge burns in the chest of James Pearlington, Earl of Strathmoor. His only thoughts are how to punish the three men responsible for his forced ocean voyage. Not for nothing is he called that Wicked Earl! Before he can put any of his plans in motion, however, a bewitching distraction enters his life in the form of an Otaheitan princess. One night with her and his thoughts and hands are much too full for plans of revenge.
When Princess Phillipah arrives in London, she discovers it is a colder place than she ever imagined. She has never worn more clothes in her life and there are such strange rules and customs. (Why can she not kiss the butler if she wishes?) Can she warm the heart of England and convince the ton that the Wicked Earl has been tamed at last? Will the culture clash tear them apart, or can Phillipah and James find true love amidst all the odds stacked them?
My Review:This was the first book of Jessica Jackson’s that I have ever read, despite being the fourth installment in her Winsome Regency series. I found the characters believable and delightful, the writing to be compelling, and the setting to be luscious and meticulously researched. Don’t expect Ms. Jackson to weed out “vintage” colloquialisms for the modern reader—I found it quite refreshing to not have the prose “dumbed down”, and loved learning about the era as I read.
“The Wicked Earl”, James Pearlington (aka “Lord Strathmoor”) has definitely earned his title—though most of the mischief that gained him the moniker happened in stories prior to this one. Never fear, though—this book stands very well on its own. It is quite clear what sort of sordid activities must populate my lord’s backstory—enough to make us wonder if such a man could ever be tamed.
Enter Phillipah, the Otaheitan (modern Tahiti) princess who beds him just before the last leg of a year-long ocean voyage not of his own choosing. James may have been thinking “last fling before home and revenge”, but not his virgin bride, who considers the chief’s marriage ceremony legal and binding—and who, incidentally, is the offspring of one of the sailors of the Bounty (of the famed mutiny), one of the many wonderful integrations with known events that Ms. Jackson works into the story.
Phillipah wakes from their wedding night to find that her new groom has been stolen away from her. No wilting island flower is she, and she soon sets sail for England with a small posse of friends and family to find him.
Needless to say, hijinks ensue as cultures and families clash. Whether it is James’ snobby, bored mother, Phillipah’s bodyguard’s habit of carrying his war club everywhere, or her own very un-English tendency to wear her heart on her sleeve, the two must cross a mountain of expectations to try to find love in the midst of the marriage with such an inauspicious beginning.
Ms. Jackson takes us on an amusing romp through the Regency era, with the charming characters of a Jane Austen romance and the spicy interludes and meticulous attention to detail of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander.
As Phillipah says, “everyone loves her.” It’s true. These are characters that will stay with me for the rest of my life. I’ve already purchased book one of the series so I can work my way through the rest of the stories in order. I can’t wait to become acquainted with more of Ms. Jackson’s work!
Image copyright subbotina / 123RF Stock Photos
May 1, 2017
7 Things I'm Grateful For
Wow, so much has happened last week/will be happening this week that I'm going to be posting a couple times this week. For today, because it's Monday, because it's been a while, and because I'm much better at posting these moments on Instagram and Facebook than keeping my blog updated, here's a 7 Things summary of what's been going on.
Also, as a side note--there is some kind of critter that sounds very much like a grasshopper sawing it's legs singing in the box of firewood behind me. I love country living most of the time, but in spring, the proliferation of insects always takes an adjustment period.
My scalp is crawling right now. Literally. I keep checking over my shoulder to see if it's coming crawling out of the box and flying straight at me.
Anyway... on to the 7 Things.
1. Glass Fusion Field TripLast Monday, two cool things happened. First, I got to hang out with Jabin and his class all morning for an art workshop field trip to Glass Fusion, where Jabin made a Minion. We'll get to see the final results in two weeks after it has been fired. (All the coloured sand is actually ground glass. Each part of the pattern had to be filled in with glass and shaped with a dry paintbrush.)
Mom and the kiddo
Gotta make it perfect.
The artist at work
The workshop instructor, Sharon, helping Jabin fill in some tricky detail bits around the eyes.
The finished product--almost. (Still needs to be fired.)
I didn't make one, because the artist in me rebelled when I was told I could only use one of the patterns on hand, none of which I wanted on display in my home. (She really told me that if she let me do my own thing, everyone would want to. Um, she hasn't heard of the "I'm an adult" card, obviously. Lol.) So I took lots of photos of the other participants and cheered them on.
However, I am looking forward to coming back with just a few interested parties, and here's hoping she will let me be a little more spontaneous when she doesn't have twenty kids to wrangle at the same time. (I'm really hoping for a rooster design. Or a teapot.)
2. Date Dress-Inspired Fan DesignAlso last Monday, I received a direct message on Facebook from local dress designer Cassandra Tyler (whom I had never met) who had read my book The Friday Night Date Dress. Before even reading it, she was inspired by the book's title alone to create a Friday Night Date Dress of her own for a night out with her hubby.
Sewists will be able to see the fine attention to detail she put into this--matching stripes on the bias? *Talena geeks out for a moment*
Since reading the book, she is now working on a collection of dresses inspired by Melinda's dresses in the book which will be for sale. That means you can have one of Melinda's dresses!!
I'm super excited about this, because honestly, I'm never going to have the time to make those dresses into reality. And it will be so great to see how Cassandra interprets the designs I put into the book, plus lots of fun for my other fans.
I feel a little bit like J.K. Rowling must feel when she sees her fans walking around in House Scarves and Potter glasses. And being like Ms. Rowling is pretty much the dream for most authors in my position. (Fan-made clothing? It's a little thing, but I'll take it.)
Potter fans pose at King's Cross Station's Platform 9 3/4. Photo copyright madrabothair/123RF Stock Photos
If you want to keep updated on Cassandra's progress on the Date Dresses, like her Facebook page Magic Happens. She has hinted that she'll be posting progress photos of fabrics, etc., so we can watch the magic as it happens.
... Okay, that was bad, but it was so perfectly there.
3. Writing Progress on Finding Heaven
After over a month of profound setbacks on my current work-in-progress, due mostly to the fact that the story had fallen and couldn't get up, last week saw significant increases in the word count. By the end of the week, I had hit the "blackest moment"--which means I am nearly finished my first draft! I am SO excited about that.
This book has taken much more time to complete than I had ever anticipated it would, and I am itching to get started on some other shorter, sweeter, and much more-lighthearted ideas I have had in the interim.
I have also been working on the short story I promised my loyal readers/newsletter subscribers in my last post.
As far as Finding Heaven is concerned, I expect that this book will be launching in September--right around the time of year the story begins. I'll keep you posted!
4. Spring Is Here to Stay. Maybe.The weather this spring has caused many a person to grump and gripe because of the constant teasers of better weather. We've had our second exceptionally mild winter in a row, with January temperatures warm enough to bring on a melt, and fits and spurts ever since. By early April, the snow had disappeared in the town of Peace River. (Not here, but it was close.) Then, province-wide snowstorms sparked a flurry of posts on social media along the lines of Old Man Winter and Mother Nature having a drunken hookup (I'm looking at you, Tammy. I laughed and laughed.)
I tried to keep a moderate attitude about the whole winter-that-just-wouldn't end, but I confess to wondering if there was some way we could bring Aslan back to oust the white queen when we got this dump a couple weekends ago:
A post shared by Talena Winters (@talenawinters) on Apr 13, 2017 at 12:36pm PDT
Which led to some springtime scenes rarely seen.
#canadiankid #onlyincanada #ohcanada #thatsmyboy #snowman
A post shared by Talena Winters (@talenawinters) on Apr 15, 2017 at 4:25pm PDT
Snowball fights in Alberta. I bet Noah was glad he was dressed more warmly than his older brother with the much better throwing arm...
This base snowball became a ginormous seven-foot-tall snowman. Go, team Jabin!
My attitude started to wane somewhat as the snow kept coming, though. And coming. And coming.
This morning, the last few flakes of Jabin's and Jason's snowman (seen in the distance in the previous image) faded into oblivion. There are still some holdout strips of white in the shade of the trees on the south side of my yard. But I think I can officially begin to believe that spring is here.
It's May, so I guess I might be safe.
In celebration, I am putting the mittens and snow gear away today. If it snows again... I guess we'll just layer up. :-)
5. Celebrating a Year with Move UpA year ago, I took a risk and asked local magazine Move Up for a writing job. They said yes, and I have just worked with them for the fourth issue in a row, which released last week.
I am so grateful for the team that runs this magazine, Tormaigh and Jenelle Van Slyke. They have coached me to be a better editorial writer and have given me some great opportunities. (I have written the cover article for three out of the four issues I have worked on. The kind of trust my editors have put in my ability is beyond humbling. A great deal of credit also goes to the photographer on those articles, Melissa E. Earle. No images=no cover story. Melissa is awesome.)
Also, working with them, getting out of my comfort zone and learning how to interview and get to the heart of an article with many different facets has given me the confidence I needed to do the same for my fiction.
Probably the coolest part of working for Move Up, though, has been the many amazing, inspirational people I have "met" or gotten to know even better around the Peace Country. Thank you to all of you whom I have interviewed and who have so generously shared your time with me. You have inspired me more than you know!
6. Great Books by Indie AuthorsOver the past year, I have had the privilege to beta-read for several talented authors, three of which are releasing books this month.
That Wicked Earl (A Winsome Regency Romance)
By Jessica L. Jackson
Jessica L. Jackson just released her Regency romance That Wicked Earl on the weekend, and I will be posting my review of the book tomorrow.
Melissa Keaster will be releasing her fantasy novel Eleora in the next week (I haven't read this one, but will do so as soon as possible and post a review. I helped Melissa with her blurb, and have been sharing my experience as a self-publisher with her through the process, as this is her first release. Melissa was one of my first author friends, and I just love her. She's got an amazing heart and testimony, which I will likely talk about in a future post.)
P.D. Workman will be releasing Endless Change later in the month, a YA novel about a boy named Parker who is just trying to help, but gets himself into a sticky situation. I'll post my review of the book when it launches.
7. A Weekend of Down Time and Craft TherapyOn Saturday, while Jason shingled a shed and my kids and their friends created a small tornado around us, my friend Chantelle, my mom, and I had some crafting, bonding time.
Our date morphed last-minute from tea to scrapbooking. I was working through a plot problem in my head, and with the funny way the brain works, I knew I needed to do something totally different to give my subconscious time to work it out. So we had an impromptu crafting party.
I kept the scrapping stuff out on Sunday, and by the end of the weekend, I had fixed the plot problem, worked out the ending of my book, and created five scrapbook pages. Not bad, I'd say.
Now, I just need to get those scenes written down...
Also, I need to print more photos for paper scrapping. Something more recent than 2006 would be good. (As cute as those little kiddos were...)
What are you grateful for this Monday, friend?
April 11, 2017
Sticks and Stones, Love
A little over a week ago, Hootsuite notified me that someone had posted about my book, The Friday Night Date Dress, on Twitter. Curious, I opened up the app to see what it was about. After all, given the book's title, people sometimes just post about actual dresses intended to be worn out on a Friday night with those keywords.
But no, the search results really were referring to the title of my book. And someone had actually posted about it four times that day, with a shortened URL link. Curious, I followed the link--and discovered, to my horror, that it took me to a pirate site where the book was being offered for free. In all eBook formats. Plus an MP3.
Really, Fred? Have you tried it?
Gut roiling with that sickly feeling you get when you are trying to find out if someone you like really has been stealing from you, I investigated further. Yep, there it was--my cover, my name, my blurb, my bio, everything. And a big, fat, "Free Download" button.
How I feel about pirates stealing my stuff.
There were four short reviews for "my book" beneath the listing--almost as many as the listing on Amazon.ca currently sports!--but they were obviously fake. (Two of them by supposedly different authors used identical poor English.) The site was hosted in Russian.
My book was not alone. I don't know how many books this site had ripped off, but there were a LOT. Further research discovered that several other sites were also doing the same thing.
At this point, several choice words not suitable for family viewing went through my mind.
Take that, Russian pirates! Wait...
It was close to my bedtime, and there wasn't much I could do that night, so I went to bed pursued by the same horrible feeling I had when my college roommate's boyfriend had stolen my car (for which I still owed a great deal of money) and taken it on a drug-addled high speed chase through BC, completely totalling it. The insurance payout did not cover the loan.
The next day, I spent a great deal of time trying to figure out how to deal with pirates. I learned that there were many ways that pirates steal books besides what they had done to me. And I was glad that I had been leery of downloading files from the sites I had found, which kind of looked like the bookseller's equivalents of Russian brothels. You never know what I (or my computer) could have caught from those places.
By the end of the day, I came to the realization that I could spend my time fighting pirates, or I could write books, but I did not have enough time in my life to do both.
For the non-Facebookers in the crowd, this is what I posted that night;
Some people say you've made it as an author when someone pirates your book. Well, I'm not sure how thrilled I am to be joining this dubiously "elite" club, but I discovered The Friday Night Date Dress being offered for free last night. Since then, I have been reading about other authors' often futile wars against the pirates of the world and debating about whether it is worth my time and energy to join them.
I'm leaning towards not. As much as it irks me that someone thinks they can steal and distribute a project for which I haven't even earned back my capital, let alone my time, on the other hand, I tend to think that my time is better spent writing more books that honest people will pay for than fighting the masses of thieves who never would have read it otherwise, anyway. Besides, it's kind of flattering that some Russian pirates actually thought my book might be in high enough demand that they took the time to create not only an eBook version in every format, but even an mp3! I just wish I had earned more than the average Russian serf's weekly income on it first.
Oh, well. I'm in good company. Most authors have had their work pirated at one point or another. And judging by the reviews on the page (which I confess to doubting the veracity of, given how recently this pirated version became available, how short and generic they are, and that two of them were EXACTLY the same), I can say --
I'M BIG IN RUSSIA!
Lots of people commented on my "good attitude." I'm not sure if my attitude is so much "good" as "practical."
Here's the thing. I can't control what other people do. People have stolen from me before. People have cheated me before. People have falsely accused me, misunderstood me, and wrongly dissed my reputation.
I can't control that.
But I can control how I react.
There are certainly things in this life that are worthwhile to get all bent out of shape about and crusade about. But is this one of them?
Should I give myself ulcers trying to defend the honour of my one lone published work when all my efforts would be somewhat like playing whackamole with a hydra?
Wouldn't that just be letting the pirates win in a different way?
No. I will keep working on new stories. I will trust that you, my reader and my friend, want to support my effort to provide you with quality, heartfelt entertainment and so will pay me to read those stories. And I will not lose sleep over what thieves will do.
There will always be people in this life who try to take advantage of us. And I'm not saying we should always let them. But sometimes, there really is nothing you can do--except not allow yourself to be victimized. This comes down to attitude.
Yes, I realize that this is much easier in a situation where the wounds mostly end up in my pocket book than, say, me or my family being put directly in harm's way.
However, whenever we are in situations where others are trying to take our power (whether in a direct, visceral way, or through the "sanitized" world of digital pirating), we can still choose whether or not to let them. When we have been abused or misused, those scars often stay with us for life. But they do not need to be ugly and bleeding. The scars can mend and become stronger than all the surrounding skin, and even become the strongest part of our character.
We get to choose--do we let ourselves remain victims, or not? That is the power we still have.
What do you choose?
The Friday Night Date Dress
She sews runway masterpieces... but who will mend her damaged heart?
P.S. If you haven't yet had an opportunity to read my first book, check out the link to see where you can get it. The real reviews that people have left will testify that it's worth a few bucks and a few hours of your valuable time. :-)
You have no idea how much I appreciate your support of my work--so much, in fact, that I'm working on a free short story just for my readers. To get it, make sure you are signed up for my "book newsletter" so you get notified when I send it out. (It will only be available to newsletter subscribers.)
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Happy Tuesday, friend! May your day be full of joy.
April 2, 2017
Celebrations
"How do you want to celebrate Levi's birthday?"
The question was prompted because my aunt had offered to pay my way to a women's conference this weekend. It came from me and was directed at my husband well over a month ago. Various ideas were bandied about. Nothing was decided, other than that we wanted to spend it as a family doing something to remember him by. Not exactly the most definite of parameters. I did, however, decline my aunt's generous offer.
The Van DepartsLast Monday, I took my van into the shop to finally fix the "loose steering" I had been dealing with for at least a year. (Long story why it hadn't been dealt with sooner, but it just hadn't.) That night, the shop technician gave me the news that the fix it required (new rack and pinion, for those of you who understand such terms) would cost well over a thousand dollars. If it were in good shape for its year, it would only be worth about $4k. But it's not. All of the repairs to it required to get it up to that would cost over $1k, and it would still have a history of a couple of scrapes and over 200k km on it.
So... we decided that it was time to invest in something different. Something that wouldn't require new shocks every year and regular maintenance on the tie rod ends and other injuries caused by driving on country roads.
Since neither of us are "car people", I spent the rest of the week doing manic research to figure out what kind of vehicle I wanted, exactly. The research began by contacting my uncle, who buys wrecked cars at the auction, fixes them up and sells them for a living. He gave me a couple of great options. I also spent a lot of time on Kijiji, and even more time checking consumer and professional reviews on each model I was interested in.
In the midst of all this time, I was also doing some pretty heavy surgery on my book.
And by the end of the week, I had come back to choosing one of the two options my uncle had offered me.
So, on Friday, I rode with my mom and her friend. They dropped me off at my uncle's place on their way to the very women's conference I had declined. I picked up one of the two vehicles I was trying to decide upon--a 2004 Dodge Durango--which I will "test drive" until I either decide to keep it or until the other option is fixed up in two weeks, whichever comes first. (I'm leaning towards keeping it.) Then I came home.
The Timing Was RightIn 2015, I couldn't even throw out the garbage bag in my van for months because it contained a banana peel from a banana he ate on his last day. I eventually did, but when Jason broached the idea of trading the van in for something else in spring 2016, I resisted--I still had too many confusing emotions to deal with regarding losing Levi, and somehow, the van represented something to me. I'm not sure what.
But I take it as a sign of my growth that when it came time to look for a different vehicle this week, I was actually glad for the finality that required it.
The Perfect EndingBefore I left for Red Deer, I was asked last-minute to join our worship team at church this morning, so I ran that by the family. Everyone wanted to go. I had originally been turning down commitments for this weekend because I wanted to guard my heart against the potential of having a very difficult grieving day. But once we decided to begin Levi's birthday celebration as a family by celebrating the hope of heaven with our church family, it felt right.
A post shared by Talena Winters (@talenawinters) on Apr 2, 2017 at 1:00pm PDT
After church, we came home and relaxed, all of us full of good food and good memories, both old and new.
Sometimes, the best things are the simple things--as long as you appreciate them. It is so difficult to celebrate a birthday that might have been, but since that is the only way we can celebrate, I am so glad that it turned out well. Because honestly, last-minute is the way we roll best.
Also, I'm thankful that the Durango has four wheel drive. Otherwise I would have been walking in from the road when I got home last night! (I almost got stuck, anyway! Our driveway actually looks worse than this now.)
A post shared by Talena Winters (@talenawinters) on Mar 30, 2017 at 4:35pm PDT
Happy Sunday, friend. May you make the most of today's difficult situations.
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Levi playing "naptime" in his stroller. September 2014. 2 1/2 years.
Biggest brother, littlest brother. September 2014.
Levi and Sunshine, hanging out. March 30, 2015. Almost 3.
That's my boy! April 4, 2015. 3 years.
3rd birthday party, and hamming it up (as per usual!) April 4, 2015.
March 24, 2017
Reset
This week has been all about taking a step back, reassessing, and hitting the reset button.
A post shared by Talena Winters (@talenawinters) on Jan 26, 2017 at 11:18am PST
The Writing
As I hinted last week, I have been struggling with my book lately. Things were getting out of control, it was broken, and I just didn't know how to fix it. I even had a meltdown last week, and I'm so thankful that my friend Colleen managed to talk me down from the "just-kill-them-all-and-start-something-new" ledge.
I'm also thankful that I have been involved with a critique group since last fall. On Monday night, at our regularly-scheduled confab, my colleagues very gently, very kindly told me to throw out an entire chapter from last week's submission--a first for me.
And they were right. I thought about how I'd been struggling so hard to make the book do what I wanted it to do for the past several weeks, and realized that the problems they saw were exactly the reason why. My book was broken. I had lost my story, the reason for telling it.
It was time to reset.
So this week, I have been re-reading the entire thing from the beginning. Yes, all 129,000 (!) words. Now that I know my characters and my world pretty well (since I'm quite close to finishing the book), it was good to go back and tweak a few things anyway, but also to remind myself of the direction in which I had begun. I'm only about half-way through, thanks to a week that went nothing according to plan. But I can already tell that once I hit the tail end of the words I have already written, the goal will be in sight and it will be pretty much a straight shot to get there. Resetting was the right decision.
Fruits and vegetables for days!
The Body
The other thing that's been getting reset this week is my health. The last few months, I have had some of the worst brain fog and exhaustion of my entire life, barring the nine months or so immediately after Levi died. I knew that I was still struggling with the exhausted adrenal glands brought on by the trauma and shock of losing him, but I also knew that I could do something about it. (You know it's bad when you caffeinate and then need a nap worse than ever.)
Last summer, I juice-fasted for about 45 days, then eased myself off of the fast over the next two weeks to address several serious health concerns. It worked, and in the process I lost the 30 pounds I had put on from stress-eating the previous summer.
It also successfully allowed my body to get rid of the fibroid cyst on my ovary that may have otherwise required surgery, as my doctor was concerned about the potential of cancer. (Can you see why I was willing to do something extreme?)
So this week, I began juice fasting again. By day three, I had already noticed a significant improvement in my cognitive powers and alertness. Today is day four, and I feel so much better than I did a week ago that I know I made the right choice. (Plus, I'm already down six pounds of extra winter "fluff". Bonus!)
I do not intend to go for nearly as long as last time. My current goal is 10 days. I'm thinking that I may still go see a natural health care practitioner afterwards for more suggestions of ways I can support my body right now--but I know that this was a good step.
This time around, Jason has decided to juice fast with me, too. He's only on day two, as he was away for the first part of the week. I'll keep you posted how we both fare.
Lady of the Lake, though art beautiful but tiresome...
The Knitting
In the meantime, I am making very slow progress on my "Lady of the Lake" shrug that I began on our way to India in October. Slow, because I do not find the knitting on this design particularly enjoyable--though I love the result. I put a pattern repeat or two on it ever week or so (each repeat taking two hours--yes, I timed it), so it is slowly growing. At this rate, it should be done in about five years. :-)
Happy Friday, friend!
March 23, 2017
Four Years Ago Today...
This little dynamo joined our family.
Photo taken March 27, 2013.
Getting him to hold still for a photo was nearly impossible...
March 23, 2013.
Unless you strapped him in a chair.
March 27, 2013
Or to Daddy...
March 29, 2013
Or he had an important phone call to make...
March 29, 2013
You made our family complete, Levi.
April 3, 2013. 1 year plus 1 day old and loving life.
We love you and miss you. But this day, the day you joined us? It's still a day to celebrate.
March 23, 2013. The Winters boys.
March 18, 2017
Full Circle
Good morning, blog. I had no idea when I got up this morning that this is the day I would come back here, finally, and reintroduce myself.
I've missed you while I've been away. Have you missed me?
There were many times I thought stopping by for a while, but something always stopped me. No, it wasn't just the other project (my novel) that used up all my words before I could come to see you. I just didn't know what to say. I was confused, blog, I confess. It wasn't you, it was me.
Remember in the early days, when things were so effortless between us? I'd come see you and talk about my kids and my life and my knitting and be just a little silly about it, and I would go away feeling a little better about it all and you would go away with your word tank full. Those were good times, weren't they?
Copyright: pinkstudio / 123RF Stock Photo
But things always change. My kids got older, and I got worried that posting their latest escapades on the world wide web may lead to negative social and safety repercussions for them. I even worried about their future selves--that some future version of themselves may have to pay for my decision to post about the bad day we just had potty training. And as they aged, let's face it, they said less and less of those crazy things that we love that kids say--you know, the ones we always laughed long and loudly about over tea.
And that was okay, because we found other things to talk about, didn't we? We talked about gardening, and my crazy thoughts, and knitting--always the knitting. And life was still good between us, blog, because we still had lots to talk about.
And then I decided that I wanted to become an author. I started listening to all these other voices that told me what you should do for my platform, and what kinds of things I should talk about, and things just became awkward between us. I didn't want to be the neighbourhood know-it-all who was certain I had a much better idea how to do something than others did. So for a while, I didn't know what to type. Things just got weird between us, and I claim full responsibility for that.
But the longer I sat and thought about it, the more I realized that you and I have developed a unifying purpose and belief that would set us apart--we want every person to realize how amazing they are, just as they are, because God made them, don't we? I wanted people who read you to be encouraged to become kinder, more loving, and more open to seeing the beauty of this life.
And it became easier to talk to you again for a while. You've helped me through some really tough times. Even after Levi died, you and I always had plenty to talk about. Okay, I did the talking, because hey, you make the best listener. Have I ever told you that?
But even then, I put these restrictions on myself--I had to talk about certain things, and every post had to have a point--an encouraging point. As I worked through the most devastating event of my entire life, I was continually working to look for how I could encourage myself and others through it.
And it was good, blog. I'm glad you let me do that. I needed to do it, so I wouldn't sink into the pits of despair, so I could heal and learn and grow. But it was also kind of exhausting. And putting all that work into making sure I would have something to say to you meant that my book--my poor, neglected book--would sometimes go for a whole week waiting for me to come and say hi.
That's why I needed the break. I am so tired, blog, or at least I was. I was tired of trying to make our every conversation match some preconceived notion of what our relationship should be. I was tired of trying to be encouraging and inspirational. I needed time to just heal. And the book needed me more than you did.
Copyright: cienpies / 123RF Stock Photo
But things are changing again, blog. Spring is coming, and I want to tell you about the plans I've been making. I've been finding more energy. The current book is nearing the end of this phase, and I'll soon have more time to talk to you--and, let's be honest, it's in that frustrating teenager stage where it doesn't really want to do what I say. Sometimes I want to talk to you for a while instead to take a mental break.
I've missed you, blog. But our time apart has been good for me. I've had time to think about how to make our time together fun again, without endangering my children's future careers and while hopefully making it so my other friends want to hang out with us once in a while, too.
We're going back to the good old days, where I talked to you about things for fun. There will be fewer random rants about the frustrating days of motherhood, because my actual teenagers are at a pretty good place right now. (Yay!) There will be far fewer rants about "causes" such as natural health, because that's just something I do, now, not something on which I proselytize. And chances are, there will be far more updates about knitting, cooking, gardening, and the frustrations of writing. And still the occasional inspirational post from the ruminations I've been ruminating. All with a dash of silliness.
We're starting something new, blog. I'm kind of excited to see what the "something new" will be. But I'm most excited to know that, when we do talk, it will be because we both want to be here. Eleven years later, and we're still going strong.
Sounds like more fun already, doesn't it?
Copyright: ulkas / 123RF Stock Photo
Happy Saturday, friend. Please stick around. Good things are happening here.
