Nikko Lee's Blog, page 5

June 21, 2018

Maine Crime Wave 2018

I missed the Crime Wave last year. The previous year it had been cancelled. So I was pretty excited to attend this year's gathering of crime writers and readers. It's a chance to meet old friends and make new ones.


The CrimeMaster Award was given to Douglas Preston. He's a journalist and novel author who writes about his own adventures like being on the team to rediscover the lost city of the monkey god - a books I have been ravenously reading - and fictionalized accounts inspired by his experiences. He's also teamed with with Lincoln Child for numerous collaborations. Fantastic speaker.


Kate Flora gave an insightful workshop about character voice where she talked about the camera lens of the voice and how to use both intimate and more objective narrative to capture the reader's interest.


The keynote speaker was F. Lee Bailey - yes that F. Lee Bailey of the OJ Simpson case. I could listen to him for hours talking about his experiences in the military, how he came to be a lawyer and the cases he's worked on. He also presented some straight-forward rational for why OJ couldn't have done it, the focus of an upcoming book.


When I drove to the conference, I was doubting my place in a room full of published and aspiring authors. After all when was the last time I had any time to write much less think about my languishing projects? Then I started talking about the craft and realized I do have experience publishing, thoughts on my origins as an erotica writer and more stories I need to tell.


I've sent Safe Word off to Carina Press. I'm now setting about remaking the outline for Wolf Creek that I managed to lose when cleaning up my office.


And I'm looking forward to another Crime Wave next year.

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Published on June 21, 2018 00:04

June 1, 2018

The Witches of Gloucester by Lisabet Sarai

“Will she come, do you think?” Marguerite gestured toward the 1930’s brass Commodore clock on the mantel, which read ten minutes past four. “She looked so nervous yesterday – as if she thought we’d eat her alive.”


“Well, actually, when you put it that way...” Beryl allowed herself a lecherous chuckle.


Her companion gave her an exasperated grin. “This is not a joke. You know as well as I what is at stake.”


“Don’t worry, Mar. She’ll be here, though she may have to wrestle a few doubts into submission first. She feels the pull, just as we do, even if she doesn’t understand it.”


“Well, I do hope she arrives soon.” Marguerite surveyed the elegant table she’d set. She picked up a Blue Willow porcelain teacup and wiped away an imaginary smudge. “The icing on the petit fours is melting.”


As if in answer, chimes tinkled at the front of the house and a hint of fresh air slipped in the open door, bringing the ubiquitous tang of salt. From his corner cage, Marguerite’s mynah, Jonah, exactly mimicked the sound of the doorbell. Beryl jumped to her feet. “I’ll go show her to the parlor.”


“No, no – let Gloria do that. We don’t want to spook her with excess enthusiasm. Settle down and compose yourself. Remember, you’re a member of the Ladies’ Welcome Brigade. Refined. Polite. Proper.”


“Proper?” Beryl grinned and thumbed her peaked nipples, obvious as always through the navy blue crepe of her blouse. Her eyes fluttered shut as she relished the sensation. “Refined? Me?” 


Marguerite licked her full lips. She swept her palms over the plum velvet caftan that hid her thighs. “Try to pretend, darling. Just this once.”

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Published on June 01, 2018 06:06

May 13, 2018

Grammy is a special kind of grandmother


Every family seems to have their own name for grandparents. I grew up with grammies, grampies, grandmamans, and grandpapas. I was fortunate enough to know several great-grandmothers and a great-grandfather. Yet my closest grandparent was always my Grammy.


Part of my childhood was spent growing up on the family farm. Grammy's house was on the corner between the barns and the lake. I could walk to her house in 5-10 minutes whether we were living in the old farmhouse my father remodeled, the house on top of the hill we rented or the house my father later built.


That physical closeness meant that I was always passing by her house - rarely without stopping in. My earliest memory is walking to her house while she and my Grampy were building an addition. I can't remember how old I was - young enough that I wasn't in school. Her house was always my destination or a way point to and from home.


We waited for the bus at her corner.


When I was done chores, I'd stop by her house on the way home to chat and get a snack - Grammy always had cookies, bars or leftovers on hand.


Honk the horn as we drove by on the way to the beach, if we didn't stop in.


It was our departure point of many moves whether to Saskatchewan where my mother had gotten a job working in the correction system, before the start of the eight hour drive back to university, or to return to an adult life so many miles away.


For most of my life, our big family gatherings with aunts, uncles and cousins occurred at Grammy's. Us kids had our own table set up for meals and playing cards in the living room. At Christmas, stockings for everyone were hung on the banister to the second floor. The basement once held a pool table/ ping-pong table where we spent hours when not scooted outside.


I spent countless hours with my Grammy watching her cook, listening to soaps, cleaning dishes or the house, fixing beans and tending to her flower and vegetable gardens. We talked about life, love and whatever else came out. The front porch was good for sitting in the morning and seeing everyone go by on their way to work or waiting for the mail. The back porch was shaded in the afternoon for those long leisurely summer afternoons between swimming and dinner.


As I grew older and spent more time away from the farm, Grammy became my favorite pen pal. Even if all we talked about was the change in season, it still kept alive our connection. In recent years, when I called her in the evening weary from a long day with small children, she reminded me to treasure these moments that sometimes felt so overwhelming.


Now that she has passed, I hope to pass onto my children - and maybe eventually my grand-children - the importance of that special connection that has been a bedrock of my life.


 

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Published on May 13, 2018 06:20

April 28, 2018

Warning Low Bandwidth

Daycare has been closed for the last wee, which means we've either been traveling to visit family or I've been home with two kids (ages 3.5 and 1.5). This is my first time being at home with two higly mobile kids. It's been non-stop movement with the exception of quiet/naptime and the odd video or car ride. When I was pregnant with my first, I imagined writing while she napped or after she had gone to sleep. So of course she was a challenging sleeper. Even though my second is a more reliable sleeper, I have no more energy when I do manage to find some free time.


Safe Word is still in editing limbo. I have a few must fix issues before I dare submit it. Even getting a submission together will mean writing a summary.


Wolf Creek has been re-released. It was intended to be a trilogy. I've drafted the second book in which Josh gets a boyfriend and discovers the other half of his heritage.


I've agreed to write a piece for a themed anthology. However, finding the time and creative energy to write has been a challenge.


At least I'm managing to get a full nigth of sleep most nigths. But I am still along way from having the bandwidth to write consistently. 

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Published on April 28, 2018 08:55

April 11, 2018

What does it take to be a black belt?

My fellow author, Lisabet Sarai, is hosting a promotional blog post for Spar at her blog. Check it out: https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2018/04/what-does-it-take-to-be-black-belt.html


A copy of spar will be given away too!

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Published on April 11, 2018 04:51

April 10, 2018

Buy my book (if you want to)

When I was a kid, I'd help my father on small appliance repair jobs he did on the side. I distinctly remember that awkward moment after he'd figured out what was wrong and either fixed it or had a list of parts that were needed when the subject of payment came up.


My father never had a set per hour rate and he hated to charge people more than what they could afford.


I kind of feel that way when it comes to asking for payment for my books.


There is a large plastic bin in my bedroom full of 3-5 copies each of my novels and anthologies in which my short stories occur. I purchase a couple of each for some library events. Sales are rare, so I don't order many copies. When people do request a signed copies, I'm always anxious about how much to charge people.


My first goal is not to lose money (printing and shipping cost). It feels odd to charge any more to friends and family, who have often acted as cheerleaders and beta readers. I try to put the price point of personal sales at retail but shipping costs me more than Amazon. I don't want to charge more for a signed copy than an unsigned copy anyone could get on Amazon.


Some publishers have easy set-ups for authors to get at-print-cost books, which balances out the added shipping cost of using the postal service. Other times I just buy my books off of Amazon and charge retail, eating some of the shipping costs.


I want people to buy my books. But more importantly I want them to read the books.


That box of books in my bedroom reminds me I need to sell my books. They aren't doing anything but gathering dust in my hands.

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Published on April 10, 2018 08:38

March 30, 2018

Hike alone


A couple of weeks ago, I indulged in one of my favorite things to do-hiking alone.


Don't get me wrong, I love hiking with my husband and want to foster a love of the outdoors with my children. However, there's nothing quite like heading out on your own and blazing the trail yourself.


It was just after dawn when I fed the cat and dog, grabbed a banana and my snowshoes and headed out the door while everyone else in my house slept. My destination Patten Stream Trail. Tucked between the stream and a gravel pit, this 1.5 mile double loop is the closed marked trail to my house.


Even a marked trail can be hard to find in the winter after a fresh snow fall. As it happened, the only tracks I came upon were from deer and turkey. I'm not in any where near as good of shape as I was only a couple of years ago before our lives were filled with two wonderful children. Huffing and puffing, I forged on-sometimes losing the trail.


When you hike alone, there is no one else to rely on to find the trail and judge the dangers of any obstacles. What where the chances I'd come across the coyotes I often hear howling at sunset? Was the thin crust over a dip hiding open water?


Hiking always leaves me feeling invigorating and even more so when I get to enjoy the peace and quiet on my own. I love dragging my children along on hikes and walks. My husband will always be my favorite hiking partner. But sometimes you just need to hike alone.

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Published on March 30, 2018 09:45

March 22, 2018

Spar pre-orders

Spar is now available again (release date March 31):


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Published on March 22, 2018 06:57

February 26, 2018

Always read the worst reviews

Last week I entered the brave new world of electric pressure cooker cooking. I know, it takes me a while to mix things up a little. To go with my new cooker, I scoured Amazon for a cookbook. I like to think of myself as a savvy Amazon customers. I always limit my searches to top reviewed items and check that more than one person posted a review.


Normally, I also read both the best and worst reviews. It's a good way to gauge the spectrum of opinions. Often the worst reviews reflect users who bought the wrong item for their needs or had some kind of shipping snafu. However, this time I didn't read close enough and ended up with a self-published cookbook that sorely needed an editor.


How bad could it be?


There was a recipe for orange chicken and noodles in the breakfast section - which was pointed out in one of the 2-star reviews. No images other than the slick cover - yes, I got fooled by a nice cover. Recipe times didn't include pressurizing, prep time or were inaccurate.


Just a good reminder of how important reviews are. If you've read one of my books, why not review it and let people know what to expect? Reviews can make the difference in a sale or happy reader. Wolf Creek is now back on Amazon.

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Published on February 26, 2018 06:48

February 8, 2018

When will the time be right to write?

7PM - Writing time


After work is done. After the commute and dog walking have been accomplished. After dinner has been cook and consumed and the dishes have possibly been put into the dishwasher. After the kids have had their baths. After my son has gone to sleep.


'Come with me.'


The tiny voice echoes my inner procrastinator. My daughter will be going to bed in half an hour and all she wants is to hang out with me.


I'm tired. I haven't thought about my novel all day - in weeks really. I don't even know where to jump back into the editing process. I need to update my scene by scene summary. I have a list of small and major edits to accomplish. I really should re-read the entire manuscript.


One day I will have time to breath, think, exercise and write. Last night I snuggled my daughter as we watched 30 minutes of a movie before it was time for the 30-60 minute process that is putting a 3 year old into her bed and keeping her there until she falls asleep.


One day I will write again. Just not tonight.

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Published on February 08, 2018 10:12