Chris Paynter's Blog, page 2

Slowly approaching the release of "And a Time to Dance". . . .

I don't think it will ever grow old--the excitement of a new release. My latest novel, And a Time to Dance, should be out by the beginning of June, if not by the end of this month. I have it back from my editor, Nann Dunne, for the second time (after I made Nann's suggested changes in my rewrite). Now, it's time to make the last changes before it's on to Emily Reed, my publisher.

This book was a journey. All books are, but this one in particular was for me. I wrote it over a course of approximately fourteen months--actually, probably longer, since I started it before the release of  Survived by Her Longtime Companion in January 2012. I was plugging along nicely. But it came to a screeching halt as I was faced with Phyllis's and my father's cancer and treatment. Then, I was in a "start and stop" mode. It was a story I believed in, and it's not that I lost faith in the romance. I simply couldn't focus. What made me finish writing the novel was the gentle prodding of Phyllis: "Honey, please don't stop writing" and my father: "Sis, how's your writing coming along?" Having my father ask me that gentle question while he was dying of terminal lung cancer was the final inspiration I needed. He passed away April 3, but it's a blessing I was able to tell him at the end of March that I'd sent the book to Emily for review and was offered a contract from Blue Feather Books.

I had the pleasure of reading two excerpts from the book on Liz McMullen's "Lizzie's Bedtime Stories" show. Here is the YouTube presentation of that reading. I hope you enjoy listening.




I'll keep you posted the closer we get to release date!

The Next Big Thing Blog Hop

Fellow author Syd Parker tagged me in “The Next Big Thing” blog hop… a month ago. The blog hop allows lesbian authors the opportunity to share with readers what they’re currently working on, plus answer some fun questions about their book. One author tags another author, tags another… you get the picture. With everything going on in my life, I’m just now finding the time to write my blog about my work in progress. Thanks, Syd, for tagging me! Please visit Syd’s website, www.sydparkerbooks.com, to find out about her books and link to her blog to read about her work in progress, Someone Like You, which sounds like a great romance. I’m excited to tag new Blue Feather author, Barbara Valletto, whose debut novel, Pulse Points, will be released soon. I’ve had the pleasure to read it. For those who love paranormal romance, you’ll love this book. Although it’s not at all about vampires, the love shared between two of the main characters reminded me of Count Dracula and his love, Lucy. The big difference in Barb’s book is her main character reads like a kick-ass Catherine Zeta-Jones—at least she did for me. J Here is the information for my book to be released by Blue Feather Books this late spring/early summer. Questions & Answers: 1. What is the working title of your book? The title is And a Time to Dance. I took it from the Old Testament’s book of Ecclesiastes3:1, 3:4:
 “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:A time to weep, and a time to laugh;A time to mourn, and a time to dance…” 2. Where did the idea come from for the book? I love Bob Seger, and my favorite song of his is “Roll Me Away.” On a drive one day, I was playing his Greatest Hits. The song came on, and I started thinking about a woman who loses her partner to death. She feels the need to get away from her memories and decides to move to Grand Lakes, Colorado, to start her new life. Here is the link to a YouTube performance of the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TEBwq4A1wsU. Of course there are many differences, two of which are that my main character isn’t riding a Harley to the Rocky Mountains, and she doesn’t meet up with another woman to take with her. But the song still resonated with me and sparked the idea for the book. 3. What genre does your book fall under? Lesbian Romance. This will be my third lesbian romance. My other two releases, Playing for First and Two for the Show, are sports books about a woman breaking through the gender barrier into major league baseball. 4. What actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition? Syd said she loved this question and seemed to effortlessly pick the actors to play her characters. I needed to think about it.  Corey : Picture Mariska Hargitay in her “short cut” days with premature gray hair: http://tinyurl.com/a3cj77y.
 
Erin :  Hmm… Okay, let’s stick with SVU. Stephanie March. She definitely has the right look and beautiful blue eyes: http://tinyurl.com/bee2g2w   Aunt Tess :  Definitely Frances Sternhagen to play Tess, Erin’s aunt. Here’s Frances if you’re not familiar with the actress: http://tinyurl.com/bjmr9bo .      There are of course other characters, but Corey, Erin, and Aunt Tess represent the core of the story.


5. What is the one-sentence synopsis for your book? In a hope to leave behind the painful memory of her partner’s death, a grieving woman travels west only to rediscover love at a Rocky Mountain lodge. 6. Will your book be self-published or released by a publisher? Blue Feather Books will publish And a Time to Dance, as they have my other novels. 7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript? This is a tricky question for me. I started this book after I finished Survived by Her Longtime Companion. But I had to step back after dealing with serious health issues with my wife, Phyllis, and with my parents this past year. I’ll finish with the first draft soon and the “final” product will go to Emily Reed, my publisher, by April 1.
8. What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? 
There are excellent books out there that deal with a lover's death. One of my favorite romances, Bold Strokes author Ali Vali’s Carly’s Sound, comes to mind, but in And a Time to Dance, there is no ghost of Corey’s partner to guide her along the path to healing. Corey works through her emotions and grows on her own, sometimes stumbling along the way. Meeting the beautiful Erin is the impetus, of course. 9. Who or what inspired you to write this book? As I said earlier, “Roll Me Away” sparked the idea, but as always, the love I share with Phyllis propels the romance in my books. I couldn’t get the storyline out of my head, and when that happens, I simply have to write. 10. What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest? Anyone who’s traveled to the Rocky Mountains, particularly to the western entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park, will appreciate the locale in And a Time to Dance. I had the pleasure of visiting for a week in 1984 and stayed at Grand Lake Lodge, the inspiration for “Rainbow Lodge” in the book: http://tinyurl.com/bfzh7z5 .And yes, there truly is a thundershower every afternoon, followed closely by a rainbow. It’s magical. I only hope I convey that in the story.  As I said at the start, And a Time to Dance will be out in late spring/early summer. As we draw nearer to the final edit, I’ll post and provide a firmer date. Also, in the coming months, I'll post a link to my website where you can find an excerpt. Barbara Valletto, http://www.barbaravalletto.com/, has written well-received short stories in the paranormal, mystery/thriller, and horror genre. Pulse Points is her debut novel. Here is information on the book: http://www.barbaravalletto.com/coming-soon-pulse-points/. Barb, I’ll let you take it from there!

An anatomy of a last-minute Christmas buy....

I thought I'd finished with my Christmas buys for Phyllis. Then I got the bright idea: Hey! I bought her a stove percolator for her coffee (one of her requests)! I'll go buy her some Dunkin Donuts coffee! Yeah! (because coffee drinkers swear by the stuff, I guess, and I know Phyllis loves it)

What made it even better was that Phyllis was out running last-minute errands. I thought, okay, I'll sneak out and sneak back with Phyllis never knowing. I hurriedly dressed in my sweats (yes, I was lounging in my jammy pants lol) and hustled to the car. Luckily, the grocery store is only a few blocks away. I pull in and am about to get out of the car when I see this other car the next aisle over that looks suspiciously like Phyllis's. I stared a little harder, like if I kept staring it'd change into a Smart car or something. But nooooo, it was still a Hyundai, and YES, it was Phyllis's car. I decide to take the non-busy entrance into the store.

I rush to the coffee section. Each time I pass an aisle, I look to make sure I don't see her. Get to the aisle, grab the Dunkin Donuts coffee (and, oh my God! $17.99 for 24 oz?? but then I know she's worth it, and I frequently bought her Peet's coffee from San Fran that costs more). I hurry up to the "express" lane. Annnnnd... of course, they're changing shifts. The woman who's leaving has her money bags out and is counting out money. I keep watching for Phyllis, thinking, "hurry dammit!" Finally, the woman is done. I have this smile plastered on my face the whole time, mind you. I practically thrust my $20 into the cashier's face and just then, I see Phyllis approaching the checkout about four lanes over. It took all my will power not to scream, "give me my freakin' $2.01!" Finally, I get my change and practically run out of the store. I jump into the car, still keeping a look out for Phyllis. Driving home, like a scene from a crime movie, I keep checking my rear view mirror, but I was free and clear.

I pull into our drive, careful to park in the same place I was before. Bound up the steps to our porch and mess with the keys for two seconds. Then I run back to the wrapping paper, dash into the den where the scissors and tape are, and then hustle to the dining room. I cut the paper... haphazardly... but I still manage to trim it before slapping tape on it. I run to put the wrapping paper, tape, and scissors back where they belong. I place the package behind of all her other packages, so she doesn't notice. Then I hang up my coat, change back into my pajama pants, and attempt to look like I hadn't run a 100-yard dash. Less than five minutes later, I hear her honking outside to let me know she's back. The only boo-boo I made was leaving my keys on the table, but she didn't notice, thank God.

All I have to say is Santa has nothing on me. I'm sure I could do that "wink of an eye" thing... no problem.

Happy Holidays everyone!

From my loving wife, Phyllis....

Thank you so very much for the continual words of encouragement and concern that each of you have sent us. I know that you are busy with your own lives, but you have stopped to let us know how you much you care. We are both touched and grateful. Chris’s dad is progressing and continues his treatment for lung cancer. Her mom, as you may know, is now in a nursing home. I too am making progress but have been recently diagnosed with MRSA for my long-standing infection. Chris has shared with me how many others that she has chatted with have issues of serious illnesses with their partners in life. We have prayed for God’s intervention in easing the pain and helping cure the illness. I personally want you to know that I am humbled by your gentleness. Words are truly not adequate when one reaches out their hand and their heart to express an act of kindness. I also want to thank my family and especially Chris for being the person she is. She is an incredible human being, just like those of you who are care giving to another. Chris has supported me through my tears, helped me when I was fatigued, changed my dressing on my wound... and the list goes on. I have never heard her complain or say I am too tired. I have way too much time on my hands to think, and perhaps that it where I should be, but the wonder of giving never falls short. You, the caregiver, you the note writer, are amazing in that you are tireless. You look for ways to help and you ask for nothing in return. Blessed be each of you. Thank you again for thinking of us, caring about us, and letting us know that we are okay. Kindest wishes,Phyllis  

And the days roll slowly by...

When I first wrote about Phyllis and my dad's cancer, I thought I'd write about the journey, maybe once a week, once every two weeks. But as the days blurred one into the other, I found less and less time to write and my energy waned. And here I am, more than six months later, finally finding time to post a blog. I should say I made time to post.

Phyllis and my dad are progressing in their treatment. My dad is still receiving chemo. The mass on his lung has gotten smaller, but the chemo leaves him weak. Phyllis is battling an infection, having to undergo surgery to "evacuate" the wound. She did complete her external radiations before the surgery. She'll be moving on to the next stage of her treatment--internal radiation--on Friday. After three of these, she'll progress to the last stage--her final three chemos--and should be completely done in November. In the midst of Phyllis and my dad's treatment, we've also had to deal with my mom's health issues in July. We had planned on starting on a vacation in November. Now, as the month draws nearer and as Phyllis continues on the bumpy road called recovery, we realize the vacation will have to be put on hold.

I had such an out-of-body experience the day of Phyllis's surgery in April. It was when I thought the cancer had spread based on the surgeon's reaction and the "grit" in her lymph nodes that he removed. Thank God that wasn't the case. It was diagnosed as Stage IA uterine cancer. She's had to undergo the treatment because it was also diagnosed as "high grade" and the cells can be aggressive. So, they're treating it aggressively. On the morning of her surgery, though, I was convinced it was the worst-case scenario. I happened to be in the hallway outside the surgery waiting area. I looked down at the huge picture windows they have at the hospital. And I see the sun is shining. I'm thinking, this isn't right. It should be dark and storming with rain pelting the glass relentlessly. In other words, I didn't understand why the world had not just stopped on its axis for everyone else. Because it sure had for me and for Phyllis's family that day.

Since her diagnosis, we've had a lot of "moments." Moments when Phyllis would look at me with tears in her eyes and say that this was too much for me. Every time she has said that, I've told her, "No, I love you and you would be doing the same for me, wouldn't you?" I've also reminded her of the characters of Eleanor and Daphne in my book Survived by Her Longtime Companion. There is a scene in the book where Daphne says, "I don't want to be a burden to you, Ellie. Ever." Eleanor tells her, "I'd never think of you as a burden. You're my heartbeat." I was speaking those words to Phyllis when I wrote that well over a year ago. I just didn't see this in our future. How could I?

Life for us will never be the same. Anyone who's had cancer or is a partner or a loved one of someone with cancer knows what I'm talking about. Little things that meant so much before now seem trivial. We've simplified our lives as much as possible because again, we know what matters and it's not possessions or a bigger house. It's our love. It's not that we didn't know this before. It's that this experience has hammered it home. We've grown even closer, something neither of us thought was possible.

During this journey, of course we've encountered others who are undergoing treatment. We've been amazed at the immediate camaraderie and connection to the point where Phyllis will talk with someone and they instantly share what's going on, what kind of cancer they had, how many radiation treatments they've undergone, how many are remaining. We've also encountered complete strangers stopping us at restaurants to either say that they've battled cancer or someone they love had and "God bless you. You're in my prayers." These are memories that will stay with us forever.

Throughout these six months, my writing has pretty much come to a standstill. It's only been recently that the spark has returned, albeit a little each day. Flashes of scenes and dialogue are popping into my head at unanticipated times... just as they used to. Today, when we were driving to Phyllis's appointment, she asked if I was upset with her. I think it was because I was quiet. I said, "No. Just thinking about my writing." When we were moving to our home from the condo two weeks ago, she threatened to lock me in the den and post Buddy at the door so I'll write. I wouldn't put it past her, and I know Buddy would have her back.

Sometimes, I've not been sure how I'm dealing with everything. Then I think about my faith, my love for Phyllis, and my love of my dad and my mom... of my family. I realize I have two choices: to put one foot in front of the other and keep on walking or to curl up into a fetal position and suck my thumb. I've chosen to keep on walking, but believe me, I've had many moments of allowing myself a good cry.
 I do know this. With the dawn of each day, when I open my eyes and turn beside me... I say a prayer of thanks to God for blessing my life with Phyllis.

Surreal...

"Surreal" is the best word to describe what's happening around me. My dad has been diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer with a possible lesion in his liver. We'll know the results later this week from his PET scan that was performed today. My dad asked the oncologist how long he had. The doctor kept saying, "Do you really want to know?" I think he asked my dad three times. He finally said, "ten months." But he said they don't like to tell their patients the estimate, which I understand. With chemo, it could be longer. If it's metastasized into the liver, it could be shorter.

Phyllis had her D and C last Tuesday. After waiting through a weekend that seemed to go on forever, the doctor called last night after hours. We had given up on him calling. When I was taking Buddy outside, I was wondering if he might call after his office closed. I walked back in the condo and Phyllis is on the phone. She's waving me over to the other phone to pick it up. I'm trying to judge by her facial expressions what he's said so far. I click the button and hear "oncologist." Phyllis tells him I'm on the phone and she repeats what the doctor had told her to confirm it: endometrial cancer. He wanted to confer with the oncologist today to make absolutely certain it was cancer before he called. The oncologist had an appointment opening this morning. Phyllis has a CA-125 blood test tomorrow to check for ovarian cancer and a CAT scan with contrast to make sure it hasn't spread outside the uterus. After they get those results, they'll decide on treatment (chemo/radiation). Surgery should be in the next three weeks when the OBGYN surgeon and the oncologist can coordinate a date.

While I was listening to him talk, I moved to a chair and sank down. I had feared Phyllis had uterine cancer because she was exhibiting a lot of the symptoms. In fact, we both thought she probably had uterine cancer. But thinking it and hearing it confirmed are two entirely different things.

After we got off the phone, we hugged each other and cried. Then we made phone calls. I sent out e-mails.

I had a therapist appointment today at 11:00. Phyllis's appointment was at 9:30. I told her I wasn't going to the therapist appointment. But she came out of his office and insisted I go (my therapist's office is just across the street from the hospital complex). She had to talk to them about scheduling the tests.

During my appointment with my therapist, I told him this was "surreal." And that I felt like I was watching someone else going through all of this. He said, "You realize that is normal, don't you?" I did. I also told him I found myself "compartmentalizing." That there was my dad's cancer and there is Phyllis's. I can't think of them at the same time. It was the only way I could deal with it.

My brother is coming in from overseas next weekend and will be here two weeks, which is good. We can talk as a family. And Phyllis has such a strong relationship with her family. Her family is my family, and mine is hers. We're very blessed that way.

The really odd thing was, as we were sitting in the oncologist exam room waiting on the resident to come in first, I stared at the linoleum. I was tapping my foot and my knee was bouncing. And I thought that this is just like the scene from my book, Two for the Show, when Lisa and Frankie were waiting for Frankie's doctor to enter the room to discuss the lump they had found in her breast. Again... surreal.

We've decided to still go on our trip to Atlanta for my book launch party Friday night. We'll be leaving early Thursday morning. We both need to get away, if only for a few days.

Phyllis is worried about me dealing with my dad and now this. I'm worried about my dad and her. But as long as I talk about it and continue to allow myself to feel what I'm feeling (like crying when I need to), I'll be okay. And as long as Phyllis is by my side, I'm okay. She has such a strong faith in God. She keeps saying, "I'm right where God wants me to be. Whatever happens, happens. He'll look over us." You know how some people say those words, but they're just words? They don't really mean them? But Phyllis? She means every word.

So we pray. We stay together as a family. And we accept that sometimes, that's the only thing you can do.

Random words... not quite a poem...

A blade of grass, a soft breeze, a vague memory of playing with childhood friends.
Life passes so quickly... the years become a blur.
But I hear the distant voices of my youth...
"Can Chrissy come out to play?"
And away I went on another adventure, another game of army, another game of football.
Life passes so quickly...
I still hear those voices, but only when I take time to watch the blade of grass move gently in the wind.
I feel like that blade of grass... fragile, yet strong, as I hold my own against the turmoil in my...
Life that passes so quickly....

Reality....

As I suspected, the phone call a week ago from the doctor's office was a mistake. What the woman should have said is "the results were inconclusive" and never uttered the words "good news" or "benign." The biopsy results came back on the second procedure my dad had done, and it is lung cancer. The next step is an appointment with the oncologist on February 14, the same day Phyllis has her D and C. Her procedure is at 6:45 a.m. I'm hoping I can get her settled at home and resting, then accompany my parents to the oncologist appointment in the afternoon.

I'm glad I was able to talk to my parents and make sure they didn't accept the "benign" diagnosis but rather wait until this next procedure. That I thought it meant the doctor hadn't gotten enough of the mass for an accurate pathology report. And thank God, we were all being realists about this. It doesn't take away the anger I have with the phone call giving my parents that little bit of hope last Friday morning. It wasn't handled right. At all.

My parents sound remarkably okay over the phone. I wasn't able to go to the pulmonologist appointment yesterday afternoon. I was at my own appointment on the far northside and couldn't be reached. Phyllis and I didn't find out until last night. In order to get their minds off everything, my parents went to the casino and didn't get back until late. After we got off the phone, Phyllis started crying. I held her. Then it was her turn to hold me while I cried.

I'm sitting here listening to my "Most Relaxing Classical Music in the Universe" double CD. Samuel Barber's "Adagio for Strings" just played. It's such a haunting melody and it fits my mood. Now, I think I'll put in some Melissa Etheridge and tune out the world.

Sometimes, reality sucks.

From one extreme to the other....

This morning, on our way to Phyllis's doctor's appointment, we got a phone call from my parents. The pulmonologist's office called and said, "We have good news. It's benign." But they also scheduled another procedure for my dad next Wednesday where he has blood work done at 6:30 a.m., plus some other procedure where he's put under and is asleep for four hours. My parents were a little sketchy on details. I don't know if this is where the doctor goes through the chest wall with a needle. He said he thought he had gotten to the mass but wasn't sure if he got enough tissue. I do know whatever my dad is having done Wednesday is to confirm 100% that it is NOT cancer. I just don't know if it's the procedure the pulmonologist had talked about on Tuesday.

While I'm very happy about this report, I'm almost afraid to be too happy. I don't think I will be completely relieved until they confirm everything.

I don't know how the doctor could stand there and say, "Yes, it is cancer" and start talking about chemo and radiology. I almost want to smack him when I see him again for putting us through this if it does turn out to be benign, which I hope to God it does. I tried calling my mom and dad, but I think they may be out celebrating at the casino.

I hope to be completely ecstatic when they get the results back from this latest procedure.

Phyllis's D and C is scheduled for February 14. The doctor explained everything to us this morning, that he wasn't worried about the fibroids. But he is concerned about the bleeding and the thickening of the lining of the uterus. I look forward to the end of this month when alllll of this is resolved. I feel like a yo-yo or that I've been on a roller coaster, you know? At least a roller coaster of emotions....

Waiting for the prognosis...

My dad's bronchoscopy showed a large mass that the pulmonologist said was cancer. He showed me the images on the computer screen. The photographic image looks exactly like a photo I saw in a medical text book in college showing a lung with a malignancy. Knowing it's your dad's... I don't know how to explain it. It seems surreal. And talking to the doctor, I almost felt like I wasn't there as I asked questions with a detachment--like it wasn't me asking the question. It was after he walked away that I allowed it to sink in. But I know none of this has hit me the way it will in the coming months. I have periods when I cry, then they pass. My dreams have been disjointed, so that when I wake up, I don't really feel like I've rested.

I'm trying to stay busy. My day job is helping in that regard. But I need to do my own writing. I'm sitting here listening to Elvis's "Ultimate Gospel." I try to draw comfort from little things like this.

Tomorrow is the visit to Phyllis's doctor appointment. We'll see how that goes. Just spoke with my dad. I've been dreading picking up the phone when I see it's my parents' number. His doctor's office called while they were out. He has to go through another procedure. The doctor must not have gotten all the way to the mass. He had told me if they didn't, they'd have to go through the chest wall. That will probably be next week.

On a totally different note, it's been crazy here in Indy with the Super Bowl and it got crazier with the out-of-towners arriving today. It's cool, though. Phyllis is working at the City County Building's observatory deck tonight, running the elevator until ten. She said Lucas Oil Stadium looks fantastic with spotlights and a huge Super Bowl XLVI sign out front.

Okay... time for dinner. Thank you, Elvis, for these songs.