Ef Deal's Blog, page 4

Things Are Getting Exciting!

 I just spent the weekend with over a hundred incredible authors at the Creatures, Crimes, and Creativity Con. It's hard to describe to non-readers or non-writers just how much this conference can do for a writer's creative juices. Intelligent discussion thrills the heck out of me, and three solid days of intelligent discussion with friendly, open, fascinating, funny, charming, insightful people is a high I can't find anywhere else.

My blog has been ignored lately, which you've notice if you follow me, but mostly because things are getting exciting for me on the novel front. My amazing publisher / editor returned my manuscript with the suggested edits, along with requests for deeper writing. Holy mackerel, is Danielle Ackley-McPhail an amazing editor! She opened up so many ways for me to take a good novel and make it so much better. I'm so chuffed to be part of eSpec Books.

So much of the end of August and a lot of September was spent revising the novel, resubmitting, and re-revising until it was FINISHED! What a thrill!

Meanwhile, eSpec Books began the Kickstarter Campaign to fund the publications!

We began with the modest goal of $3000, and we're hoping to stretch that to $10,000 so we can produce hard-cover books as well. We hit our $3000 base goal within 24 hours! Now we're hoping more people will continue to back the campaign to fund the stretch goals. 

If you're reading this and haven't backed our Kickstarter yet, please consider that pledging $7 will get you AMAZING backer bonuses!

In between revision sessions, I spent a lot of time with my two grandchildren, with whom I am passionately in love. Eliana is a beautiful storyteller and singer / songwriter, and Leighton is a brilliant little engineer--who just learned to use scissors!

Of course, being me, all of this was done with a freshly torn rotator cuff, a stress-fractured foot, a broken toe, a slipped disc, and a lot of PT sessions!

I'm currently revising Book Two of the series, Femmes Fatales, to reflect all I learned from Danielle in revising Book One, so once again I am at the keyboard buried in France 1843.

Esprit de Corpse launches at Philcon 2022 November 19 at 8pm in Cherry Hill, NJ. That's just around the corner!!

The Benchmarks of August

 

August always reminds me of my drum corps days because that's the month when all the national competitions took place. 
48 years ago, I stood on a practice field in Marion, Ohio, rehearsing for the U.S. Open when a friend walked up to me with a stunned look on his face. He said, "Nixon resigned." 
I let out a cheer. I'd been demonstrating against the war in Vietnam and against Nixon since 1970. When Watergate exploded, I was outraged that Nixon was getting away with such criminal activity (a piker in comparison to Trump, I realize now). 
Outrage resumed when Ford immediately pardoned Nixon "in order for the country to heal." Pfft. 48 years later, and we still have an ex-President who demands to be allowed to get away with his crimes. Yesterday, the FBI raided Trump's bunker. I'm hoping that I will soon see the justice I was denied with Nixon.
50 years ago, the drum corps I marched with, Blue Rock, became a founding member of a breakaway circuit of corps called Drum Corps International. Member corps were not subject to the military restrictions of the American Legion or Veterans of Foreign Wars, who had traditionally sponsored drum corps. As a founding member, our corps was required to attend the DCI national competitions. Unfortunately, our corps couldn't afford such trips, and we ended up folding. However, this year, local drum corps  Jersey Surf sponsored a DCI show in Glassboro, NJ, and alumni members of Blue Rock were asked to present the national anthem as a celebration of the 50 years of DCI. It was a lot of fun, and honestly, there needs to be a word in English (I'll bet the Japanese have one) to describe the visceral, spiritual transportation back to a moment in one's past that captures all the emotion and self-perceptions of that past. A fancy way of saying, "We all felt like we were 18 again." I always called it a Proustian moment; if you've had to read the chapter on madeleines in French III, you know what I'm talking about.
                        Meanwhile, the writing life is continuing. August is a "lull" month usually; no cons for me. But September will have the Creatures, Crime, and Creativity con, November will have Philcon and my book launch, and somewhere in there the Conspiracies and Cryptids anthology will be released, featuring my story "Passing Thoughts." I begin work on edits for the novel next week, and I can't help it, but I've started Book 5 Esprit d'Escalier. 
Strong Women ~ Strange Worlds has been hard at work posting all the videos of our Quick Reads, held twice a month on the first Friday and third Thursday. Go check them out! You may just find your next favorite author. (After me, of course 😁)

July

 Another reason I hate housework (see "June") is that every time I engage in a pitched battle against my old Victorian, I end up losing in some way. This time, it was bronchitis turned pneumonia. I've spent four weeks recovering from that, although it was a mild case, what my mom always called "walking pneumonia."

Just before that, though, I had the pleasant experience of attending a book launch for the New Jersey Bards Poetry Review 2022 where my poem "Elsinboro: the Delaware 1965" received wonderful plaudits from some really talented folks. I managed to get through the reading without coughing, too, so, yay me for that!

I spent a bit of my down time submitting old pieces and writing short pieces to submit to themed openings. I've already received a few very nice rejections, all of them positive. I am anxious about my novel submissions, though; I'm hoping the world is ready for Gwynna Lionshadow.


I finished up Book 4 in the Twins of Bellesfées series, and like a good zombie flick, it ends on a
pessimistic note. 


I took the time to calibrate its events with the previous books, and double-checked facts about choking on vomit with my gastroenterologist (ah, the look on her face!).




I find when I finish a book's first draft, I experience a kind of grief or depression. I wonder if other writers experience this? It's probably a sign I'm an unpublished (so far) novelist with too many insecurities. I know authors who work on multiple projects at once and have constant story ideas flowing, so finishing a novel probably feels like a great relief so they can concentrate on other projects.
Despite vowing I wouldn't even think about the Twins of Bellesfées in Wales, I couldn't abandon Jacqueline or de Guise. So, I went ahead and started Book 5 ~ Esprit d'Escalier. I think it will be Jacqueline and the Cŵn Annwn, or at least a Ci Annwn, and the ghosts of Harddwch, and a great gale that shipwrecks on the Swanscombe beaches... That's as far as I have.
Stay tuned!

June

   One of my favorite tunes is Spock's Beard's "June." The lyrics tell the tale of being on the road, which always reminds me of my drum corps days. The chorus says, "And the sun came up on a sleepy day, it never went down at night." Granted, I don't live in Iceland, but the lyrics resonate because that's how June always feels to me.

My June these days always starts with Wildwood, NJ, playing with Blessed Sacrament Golden Knights. We give a concert for our sponsors in the morning, march a mile-long parade in the heat of the afternoon, hang around Kelly's bar with all our drum corps brothers and sisters from the past 60 years, and give another concert at our own motel that evening.

The next thing in June is the Deal Summer Celebration on the third Saturday, closest to our anniversary. 
This year, Jack and I are celebrating 45 years of marriage, but it was 50 years ago we began going steady, as it was called back then. 
We've always been married.
So, we've spruced up our back yard (I say we, but it's really Jack who did it, along with a landscaper), and I got to doing some housework, something I hardly ever do.

Having finished Book 4 of the Twins of Bellesfées, Bone Appétit , I now feel obliged to atone for all the 13-hour days I spent at the keyboard in the past year. I am a terrible housekeeper. I think it stems from the fact that my mother never considered my reading or writing time practical and felt I had to be put to some housework. Every Saturday, every Monday. I particularly hated scrubbing because I had extreme eczema and it burned like Hell, literally.
If you visit my house, and you're a neat freak, you will be disappointed in my "huswifery." But if you want a good time, good music, good food, and great conversation, we can always sit outside in our newly polished back yard oasis. 

Memorial Day ~ Taps across America

 

A Whirlwind Weekend

 On Friday morning, Jack and I packed up and headed to Balticon, a SF con in Baltimore, MD. Interestingly, there was a death metal festival being held in the city nearby. You couldn't tell if people were cosplaying or just enjoying the music. People at both gatherings were among the most wonderful people we've met along the way.

The guest list for Balticon was impressive, including some of my favorite people and my favorite authors. I stopped in to visit many of them in the dealers room ahead of time and bought books for signing. We went to lunch around the corner at a delightful friendly tavern called Peter's Pour House, where we sat and chatted a while with a group of metalheads from Germany, and I had the best French dip I've ever tasted. Ever. We got back to the con for panels on revision, the use of gore, and handling critique before heading to bed.

I got up earlier than Jack, so I headed down to the restaurant for a cup of coffee. I saw Nancy Springer sitting at her breakfast. Now, let me preface by telling you, at the Millennium Philcon, I was privileged to moderate a panel on the education track with great YA authors, including Nancy Springer. I was a fangirl, and I was too overcome with amazement at my good fortune to talk to her. (I know I've mentioned how little I knew about the writing world, right?) When I saw her seated alone, I had to approach her and say, "Nancy, I'm sure you don't remember me but--" and she said, "Oh, you're Ef Deal. I know you from Twitter." I then spent a wonderful hour chatting about the writing world, sharing triumphs and woes alike. I had planned to attend a few of her panels, but I was even more fortunate to be able to meet up with her across the day and talk some more. Such a gracious woman. 

I attended a few panels featuring Wendy Van Camp. I thought I had met Wendy at a previous con, but I realized that no, she was a featured reader for Strong Women ~ Strange Worlds and I had not only watched the reading but edited the videos. She was very happy to get the link to her solo reading.

Jack and I also chatted with Glenn Hauman and heard hilarious stories from him and from David Gerrold. We bought many books. We went back to Peter's Pour House for lunch, and a trio of metalheads thought we were the coolest people they ever met. "You're, like, old but you're living the dream!" They were absolutely adorable guys, so much fun to listen to.

That night we went to Nancy's reading at 7, and oddly the programmers had put the reading room across the hall from the concert room, so poor Nancy had to compete with a power singer. But then, around 7:30, she was nearly drowned out by sirens right outside our window on the street below (we were on the 6th floor). The sirens continued for more than the remainder of the reading. We learned the following morning there had been a deadly shooting, right there on the sidewalk in front of the Renaissance entrance. And the shooter was still at large.

Jack and I hadn't planned on attending Sunday, but when we learned we had the day free, I tried to get a room for Saturday night. I ended up booking at a the Red Roof Inn Northwestern. It was the most disgusting experience I've ever had. Our "nonsmoking" room reeked of tobacco and the smoke detector was taped over. The blankets were filthy, but we didn't need them because the AC didn't work. The walls were rotted out at the floor, and there were no baseboards. Just rot. We were so exhausted we just said, "what the heck, we'll sleep and leave a bad review." Well, I didn't sleep because of the stench, and when I got up at 5 to go the bathroom, I turned on the light to find a swarm of roaches on the floor. We boogied out of there without even "packing" so much as stuffing our things into the cases and running.

We got back to the Renaissance and had breakfast at IHOP, then went back to the con for a panel on maintaining tension in writing, featuring not only Nancy, but also Erika Hammond (fan girl squee) and my own publisher and amazing writer and editor Danielle Ackley-McPhail. Such a wonderful way to close out our con.

Jack and I caught lunch at the Irish restaurant across from the hotel at the Inner Harbor (Tir Na nOg) and had a great tour of the Constellation (more research for book 4) before heading home. The Inner Harbor is an absolutely charming place. Pirate ships all over the place! Yargh! 

When we got home, I slept for 12 hours. In a clean bed and no roaches!

Just Paddling!

 You know the image: duck serenely drifting on the water, but underneath the surface, webbed feet are paddling like crazy!

It's been a full month. The Blessed Sacrament Golden Knights performed in Connecticut. I had a tough time of it, though. My Christmas COVID has left me short of breath for every step, and I had a lot of steps. It left me completely "shattered," as my British cousins say.

I've been doing PT for bursitis and piriformis syndrome in my hip.  The PT isn't helping much at all, but then, I do spend a good ten hours a day sitting at the computer writing, video editing, book editing, and other business.

I had a poem accepted into the NJ Bards upcoming anthology, due this summer (I'm told), so that was very pleasant news.

Chuck Barouch's Conspiracies and Cryptids Anthologies Vol. 1 and 2 will also be out this summer, and I have a short piece in there, so that's exciting. 

Meanwhile, I've been submitting pieces left and right, which is a new feeling--the weight of anticipation and anxiety in the pit of the stomach!

And more videos edited from the Strong Women~Strange Worlds Quick Read sessions. If you haven't attended this one-hour reading sessions, you really should sign up and check them out.

Beyond all that, I'm researching for the ending of Book 4 of The Twins of Bellesfées: Bon Appétit. What water pressure effects would someone in a submarine feel at 10 meters? 20 meters? How thick is the hull of an East Indiaman? The details are so important when you're writing an alternate history!

I'll be at Balticon at the end of the month. Look for me, and give some love to eSpec Books in the dealer's room. Fantasy, urban bad-ass fairies, military sci-fi, steampunk, and horror--they have it all. And soon they'll have me too!

Sunday noitcelfeR

 

Today, the Christian church marks the resurrection of Jesus in a holy day named for a pagan goddess of spring and fertility. 

Does anyone else see the irony? And, in a very true sense, the hypocrisy. 

Jesus notably said Nicodemus had to be born again. The Jesus Movement of the late Sixties and Seventies took that phrase "born again" and twisted it into a fixed point in time for all believers to be "saved." When I was in college, my pre-disciple period, I could always dismiss the Christian Varsity proselytizers who interrupted my study time by saying, "Why, yes, I'm born again" and giving a random date. They'd "Praise the Lord!" and move on, leaving me in peace to study for upcoming exams.

It bothered me that they thought they could measure my soul's disposition by a few empty shibboleths. That sort of thing is exactly what kept me out of churches for ten years: ritual words, lip service, and a failure to connect with the Holy Spirit.

I heard a story from a friend, that an erstwhile apostle asked a homeless man, "Are you saved?" "Yes," the man replied. "When were you saved?" the young missionary pressed. "About two thousand years ago," the man said.

He didn't need Easter, or a church, or a ritual of litanies and gestures. I'm sure as I am of God that Jesus would have said, "Go your way, your faith has saved you."

In these pandemic times ~ no, I'm not returning to congregational worship yet because I know members of my church are opposed to vaccines and masks ~ I have been pondering the term "congregation of the faithful." Churches like that phrase because they twist it to mean "worship in the pews" or "church membership." 

I've never read it that way. 

I attended Christian music festivals, and on a hillside with six hundred other people, God was present in power. In the early days of AOL, I would sometimes meet in a private chatroom with other Christians from all over the world, and we'd text-pray, and the Holy Spirit showed up with us. I spent years in youth ministry where teens from about a hundred different churches gathered, not in church, but in prayer, and there God was in the midst of us. 

If you celebrate Easter, consider celebrating not just the resurrection of Jesus, but the resurrection of your own soul. 

How Are You Today?

 It always cracks me up that when I go to any doctor's office, I'm greeted with the question, "How are you today?"

Doesn't it occur to them that I'm in the office because I'm not well?

I understand it's a simple greeting, but seriously, they could come up with a better one for a doctor's visit where I'm clearly suffering from something. 

"Come in and tell us how you're feeling" springs to mind.

"How can I help you today" is another reasonable alternative.

"Let's see if we can figure out what's going on" would be encouraging.

Hospital ERs are especially egregious with the obvious Duhs.

I once had a gallstone attack so severe, that I couldn't stand up when they called my name. I slid to the floor, curled into a ball and crying. The woman holding her little clipboard watched me writhe in agony and said, "Do you need help?" I suppose she expected me to crawl behind her.

Another time, I broke my foot (one of many times I fractured something in my foot) and used crutches to get into the ER, my bruised and swollen foot on display. The tech asked, "So what brings you in today?" I was tempted to say it was my gallstones.

Today was a 6-month check-up with the oncologist. I had a double mastectomy in 2019 to remove three kinds of cancer. I literally have no clue what's inside my chest other than the foobs. But the tech asked, "How are you doing?" I said, "That's what I'm here to find out." Then the oncologist asked, "So what's going on?" How am I supposed to know what's going on? It's not like I can get a mammogram to screen for a cancer recurrence. I said, "That's what I'm here to find out."

Actually, a lot's been going on. Soaring blood-pressure bouts, COVID (who knows which variant), after-effects of COVID, shortness of breath, swollen legs, inflamed lymph node in my neck and right armpit, pain in the hip, and sudden weight gain, all of this within the last five months. 

But tests and scans and probes and other hoops to jump through show nothing's wrong with me. The oncologist said, "See you in six months."

Obviously, I'm doing just fine. How are you?

Where Did March Go?

 It feels like I was just writing about my Strong Women~Strange Worlds reading, and now it's April already. Where did March go?

Most of it went to our Jamaica week. If I haven't said it enough, I love our vacation spot in Jamaica, the Grand Palladium resort. Jack and I are members of their travel club, and we love being treated like royalty when we go. This year, we had a romance villa at the edge of the resort. This was our view every morning as we walked out our door:

The week was a little tougher on me than usual. For some reason, my legs and feet swelled, and walking was horribly painful. We had to call for shuttles to go anywhere, particularly because the resort is a full 3 kilometers long at least. But we were close enough to the beaches where I like to snorkel, and to the small quiet pool that's deep enough I can be weightless for a while. The snorkeling was the best I've ever done this year, and included a lion fish!

Even better, we made wonderful new friends, which is my favorite part about the resort. A lot of fun, sharing our lives and our love. 

I came home in time to wash some clothes and pack again for Heliosphere, a SF con held here in NJ, where I debuted a portion of my forthcoming novel Esprit de Corpse. That's me on the far left, manuscript in hand.

It was so good to reunite with friends in person, folks I haven't seen in three years or folks I've met in the past three years but only online. It was also nice to hear people say they loved my reading and can't wait to read the novel.

But the odd swelling in the legs persisted, and I finished up March getting an ultrasound for a possible blood clot. Hard to believe I still haven't gotten the results.

Meanwhile, I signed a contract for an upcoming anthology entry, so that's exciting news!

And... Jacqueline has discovered a novel way to kill the zombis.

Stay tuned!