Maria Yrsa Rönneus's Blog, page 5

Holiday mop

Dear Reader, we’re gearing up to celebrate Christmas, or at least many around these here parts do. We’ve kept the decorations to a minimum as skyrocketing electricity prices prevent us from lighting them anyway.

But, as the old adage goes, Dear Reader, the best things in life are free:

Myself thus being sufficiently festive, I hope Dear Reader, that whether you celebrate Yule or not, your Sunday is filled with light and splendour!

Uncovering my shorts…

Dear Reader, perhaps you’ve already guessed it – the “O of A” title is a giveaway – these short stories are a sort of progression over time of my Regency Tales. In 1918 we meet Major Hastings and Lady Marigold’s great-granddaughter and, in 1984 their great, great, great… you get the idea. These are published to my Ko-fi page, where subscribers also can find other shorts.

My intention is to do a few more of these, I have some ideas but atm I’m busy writing a Scandinavian style short story and, of course, I’m also still writing on both vol. 5 of Regency Tales ‘Offers of Atonement’ and vol 2 of A Scouse Romance, ‘Sylvia’s Scoop’.

Have a fab mid-week, Dear Reader, and stay safe out there!

Interviews & Interludes

Life. Sometimes it gets in the way of fiction. I don’t agree that it’s stranger than fiction, just generally less entertaining. This has been a time of dealing with a dysfunctional family and towering bills, but Dear Reader I’m not here today to bore you with my crap.

I have been working on making Holiday cards and also been writing on a few short stories which will be published to my Ko-fi page. Check that out, if you haven’t already!
A sweet Christmas story is coming soon and a classic type fairytale in a bit.

A few days ago, yours truly was interviewed at Feed My Reads which was fun so head over there to read!

The really big news though, Dear Reader, is that I’m going back to uni! Whee! (picture me doing cartwheels)
It’s a course in creative writing in English and I’m so chuffed at the opportunity of having a writing group and immediate feedback.

But, Dear Reader, I mustn’t procrastinate any longer! I wish you a lovely Tuesday whereever you are!

(Also, don’t forget to buy books! )

First snow

The cold is dripping off the horsechestnut tree

– snowflakes sprinkle.

Writer wrapped in warming blanket sips her tea

– candlelight twinkle.

 

M.Y.Rönneus©2021

Have a lovely weekend, Dear Readers!

 

Much Ado About A Plot

Dear Reader, we’re having a spectacularly glorious day here with a sunny sky and frost which makes a welcome change to the otherwise dark November. It’s soon Adventtide, which is when, traditionally, the Christmas lights go up here. It’s one of my favourite times of the year, I adore the decorations and the foods that we’re usually having.

The sequel to ‘House of Rose’ is some 17K words underway, but I’m dithering on several plot points and I’m the sort of writer that needs to have the story clear to myself before I can write it. ‘Sylvia’s Scoop’ will revolve around DI Russell-Bolton, who we met in ‘House of Rose’ and a journalist called …you guessed it – Sylvia and their somewhat rocky road to finding each other.

Meanwhile, I’m working on Christmas/Yule/Holiday cards and I have set up a Ko-fi store where you can find them. More items will be added and you can also donate or set up a subscription for stories and freebies to support my work, which Dear Reader might mean the difference between having the electricty on over winter or not.

So please, Dear Reader, head over there and spread the Advent cheer by sharing and donating to your hearts’ delight or just buy me a coffee, because you know, that’s awesome too.

(image: pixabay.com)

And with that, Dear Reader, I wish you a fantastic Monday, where ever you are!

 

 

 

 

Scary Sunday

It is Halloween, of course, but what scares me this year isn’t ghosts or ghouls. My worst fear is the coming winter’s electricity bills. Swedish politics in the last few decades have been plagued by a playground tug-o-war where neither side has managed to implement their policies. Meaning that there have been no thought-through strategies in place for anything. Cue energy crisis. Sweden simply doesn’t have enough electricity, which naturally makes it incredibly expensive. To the point where businesses and manufacturers have to close and lay people off.

For me personally, this means a winter in darkness at best, homelessness at worst. The combined effects of disability, more non-functioning government policies, and covid has meant that I and my husband live on the equivalent of USD 700/month. That’s tight to say the least. Last winter we spent all our savings paying electricity bills. We won’t be able to make it another winter like that.

So, I have set up a support page/shop over at Ko-fi. Mainly art prints and short stories for supporters, but there will also be some free stuff and I take commissions as well.

Please consider supporting me by donating, purchasing, or reblog, share or tweet. Thank you.

Have a horrible, spooky Halloween filled with extorted goodies!

Just Jamming

There’s nothing to perk you up on a wet and grey October morning like coffee and a sugary treat. And (as if you hadn’t sussed it yet) Dear Reader, I do have a sweet tooth. But this post isn’t about that.
I wanted to incorporate music into my series of Scouse Romances; in ‘House of Rose’ classic swing plays a big part. Think Fred Astaire.

Now, when building my next male lead, as part of understanding who he is, I have to figure out what music he likes. The difficulty, of course, being that there are so many genres out there and, I like most people, am mostly familiar with my own tastes and a character might not necessarily agree with my preferences. Still, as I’ll have to listen to it whilst I write the book, I won’t set myself up for months of torture by picking something I find unbearable. DI John Russell-Bolton is a straight, white, upper-class male but I want to write him more complex than the stereotype. So I think his musical preferences are mainly black but not too (musically) gritty. I’m thinking Lenny Krawitz, James Brown, and Michael Jackson etc, all music that I do like myself but perhaps isn’t at the top of my list.

In my travels through the youtube-verse, I stumbled across this old gem:

Despite being set in Liverpool, and music being so central to the story, there’s not one mention of the Beatles in ‘House of Rose’. The main reason for my leaving them out is simply that I think Liverpool is so much more than just one music group whose fame peaked over half a century ago. The Beatles is still big business in Liverpool; every year tourists pilgrim en masse to take selfies at the famous shrines – the Cavern Club, the brick Wall of Fame outside it, the street signs etc. Using their music as sound track seemed tiresomely predictable. Not all Swedes like ABBA, in fact I don’t know anyone who does, except super troupered dancing queens at 3 am. You kinda-sorta have to like it because you grew up with it and it’s part of your identity, but you don’t actually listen to it. I don’t expect Scousers are any different where the Beatles are concerned.

Looking for my next detective’s jam, I was inspired by a sandwich. What can I say, Dear Reader, I can’t help myself.

Ok, so this post is a little about sweets after all. With that Dear Reader, I wish you a tasty Thursday with lots of jam where ever you are!

Wednesday Wonders

Good morning, Dear Reader! Taking a break from computer work, my day started with making scones and beating my husband at Yahtzee.

But a writer never really has time off from the stories, at least I don’t; they’re always  at the fringes of my mind, tugging at my attention.
Right now, I’m working on two short stories of very different character. One is a fairytale inspired by Scandinavian folklore, and the other is an experiment with an unreliable narrator. The first is done in my head, I just have to type it out. (“Just”, right?) The other I’m not entirely sure where it’s going to go or even what to make of it. I woke one morning and simply started typing, as if the story was writing itself. But as soon as I started consciously thinking about the plot, I got hit with writer’s block. Very peculiar experience, I have to say, because I am not normally an “intuitive” writer. I usually plan carefully where the stories are going.
Who knows what will become of it, maybe it’s brilliant (ha!), maybe it’s crap. Meanwhile, Dear Reader, here’s a haiku about the really important stuff in life:

Wishing you a great day, and may you have an encounter with some comfort food of your choice where ever you are!

Relished Review

Dear Reader, the first review is always the sweetest, particularly if it’s as positive as this one:

“This amazing author sets her story in a different era that her prior series, yet she has perfectly captured the feel and sound of modern Liverpool. How does she manage to do this? one must wonder. And as a retired musician I was suitably impressed with the many dance tunes she has Rose humming and singing, all of which I have played at one time or another in my career. Even if the story itself hadn’t been intensely satisfying, the musical references would have sold me on the book. Another ‘Well Done!’ for this wonderful author. I hope there are many more such treasures to come. Gene”

In ‘House of Rose’, Tom and Rose first meet in an unusual way:

“What perfect spring weather to be working outside! Clear blue sky yet not too hot, Rose couldn’t have wished for better. She stood to stretch and, satisfied with having ridded the flowerbed of most of the ground elder, she took a few dance steps. She was looking forward to Thursday night at the jazz club.
–‘…nobody near us, to see us or hear us…’
Her breath was knocked out of her as her back hit the ground. On top of her, a man’s large frame in grey uniform weighed her down whilst speaking into a radio. The word ‘POLICE’ in bold letters on his armoured vest calmed her somewhat. Between the helmet and the grey balaclava, hazel eyes frowned at her. Not green and amber like her own, but bronze and dark blue. Mesmerising. “…a plan so appealing I can’t help but falling for you, darling…” The soprano’s vibrato penetrated her shock and confusion. A gloved hand plucked out her left earbud.
–‘Shit, you must be deaf as a post! You nearly got yourself shot!’ She blinked. Shot? What was he talking about? Suddenly aware of pain where the rough contours of his kit cut into her body, she grimaced and wriggled beneath him. Firm hands immediately pinned her down. There was a bang from somewhere and something plinked off her pickup’s fender.
–‘Hurry, move!’ The policeman crawled off her, barking orders in staccato over his radio.
–‘Bertha!’ Rose cried out.
–‘Is someone with you? Where is she?’
–‘Eh? No. Bertha is my truck…’ For a split second, a spark of laughter glinted in his eyes.
–‘This way. Stay low’, he rasped. Sheltering her with his own body, he wound one arm about her waist, clutching a sinister-looking rifle with his free hand. His radio sputtered and screeched. Crouching, they scurried from one rhododendron to the next, until they reached the door he had come out from. Inside, the electricity was off. An awkwardly long breathlessness, they stood still, close. Her eyes adapting to the dim light, his gaze crystallised, intense, penetrating.
–‘A’right, ey?’ He asked softly, his arm still about her waist. She wanted to cling to him, to never let him go. It’s the shock, the rational part of her brain whispered. A squawk from his radio stole his attention.
–‘I’ve got to go. You’ll get out through there.’ With a swift indication into the maze of corridors, he was gone.”

(All rights reserved ©2021)

Please spread the word, Dear Reader, meanwhile I’m plotting evil for the next book and writing a few short stories as well.

Have a particularly excellent Tuesday, where ever you are!
 

Paint & Poetry

Mornings are getting darker and colder here; I sat down by our kitchen table for my coffee without turning the lights on. I lit a few candles instead, savouring that twilight hour when it’s not night anymore but not fully day either. The back garden was bustling with activity and there, in the dim light, it felt like I was suddenly witness to a secret part of bird life.

 

In actuality, it’s not that secret a part of their behaviour. Magpies are unabashedly opportunistic and great tits (Parus major) are fierce motherfuckers that would fight a bear for a scrap. If the bear was up a rowantree, eating the berries, they totally would. Maybe.

Anyway. Sun is rising and the rowan is deserted. I’m in my studio, bringing out my art supplies. I hope to spend the day painting, and with a little reminder to check out my new release ‘House of Rose’, I hope that you, Dear Reader will have a lovely Saturday where ever you are!