Kitty Honeycutt/Morrigan Austin's Blog
February 20, 2015
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February 1, 2013
Guest Post with Author, George S. Stranahan
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My junior year at boarding school included German, Greek history, and for English we read Milton’s Paradise Lost and had to write a 500 word essay every weekday. Like everybody I wrote it longhand in pencil on lined paper. Mr. Gurney marked them up and returned within a couple of days, long after I remembered or cared for what I had written.
The next thing I wrote was my Ph.D. thesis on neutron proton capture at age 29. I wrote on Smith Corona, very slowly and deliberately. I had counted the number of pages of the shortest thesis currently in the physics library, and was determined to present one page less. That was not that easy, for there were many mathematical equations that each required a separating sentence before the next.
I didn’t write again until age 40, the year I spent teaching in the Okemos, Michigan high school. I had made a deal with the superintendent that if he smuggled me into the classroom I would write for him what I found there. What I found there were stories, stories of adolescents lost, confused, experimenting, yet sometimes hopeful. These I wrote each night in long hand in a spiral notebook, and in so doing found that I was writing the story of my own adolescence.
Now-a-days I rewrite these stories into a blog file titled You have to have three drinks to play in this sandbox. Three drinks are my own rule, and I follow it. A number of these will appear in my next book Phlogs Too, a sequel to Phlogs: Journey to the Heart of the Human Predicament that won the Colorado Books award in 2010. My friend, Hunter Thompson, was one of many whiskey writers. I wondered if I was one too, and there’s only one way to find out. My own assessment? Sometimes, but stay away from poetry.
A Predicament of Innocents is, like the Phlogs books, a deliberate mixture of photographs and words. They complement each other, or sometimes contradict each other. In either event there’s a tension between the pictures and the words. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but there’s an ambiguity, they’re not at all equal, and I think put together they present a challenge to the reader, Horseman, pass by.
Why write, why photograph? Why read, why look? You show me your thing, I’ll show you mine.
EDUCATOR OF 56 YEARS ADVOCATES LEARNING WITH CHILDREN RATHER THAN TEACHING TO THEM
A Predicament of Innocents features essays and photographs from George S. Stranahan
ASPEN, CO – December 2012 – “When a parent asks, ‘What did you do in school today?’ and the kid answers, ‘Nothing,’ I worry that this is indeed an accurate and complete account all too often,” writes 56-year progressive educator George S. Stranahan in his new book A Predicament of Innocents: Might the schools help? (People’s Press, Feb. 19, 2013).
In his decades of teaching at the army, university, primary, high and charter school levels, Stranahan’s primary concern has been the role of education in building and shaping today’s society. He believes and provides evidence-based arguments in his book that education is something that should be done with children, not to them.
“A teacher as instructor is in charge of everything – he does it to the kids. A teacher as community organizer makes a democratic classroom where everybody influenced by a decision has the opportunity to participate in the decision,” Stranahan explains. “Doing learning with them means they are indeed engaged in their own education, not just passively sitting there having it done to them.”
A Predicament of Innocents is a provocative collection of essays and photographs of local schoolchildren exploring the art of teaching, the minds of children, and how the current educational infrastructure stifles the growth of both. The book examines educational practices, debates and theory, and through it, Stranahan ultimately strives to force dialogue on the national level about what “school” really means.
“The public education, now attached to the military industrial complex, has totally lost its mission and will do great damage to society,” the author said. “I hope this book scares readers. I hope they see it as a call to action. If WE don’t wake up and pay attention to what’s going on in schools, nobody else will.”
Innocents is a follow up to Stranahan’s 2009 Phlogs: Journey to the Heart of the Human Predicament, which won the Colorado Book Award’s Best Pictorial Book and Indie Next Generation’s Grand Prize for Coffee Table / Photography Book. The author’s photography has been exhibited in museums across the country, including the Toledo Museum of Art, New York Metropolitan Art Museum and Southport Summer Festival in Boston.
Stranahan’s six children fired up his passion for nurturing the problem-solving abilities and creativity in every single child. He is a founder of Michigan Montessori Internationale, the Aspen Community School, the Early Childhood Center the Carbondale Community School, and the Roaring Fork Teacher Education Project in partnership with the Graduate School of Education at Colorado University Boulder. Stranahan served as Executive Director of the Aspen Educational Research Foundation (now COMPASS) and sat on the boards of many community foundations and nonprofit organizations. The passionate educator has been featured in Newsweek, Engineering and Science, Education Week and several other education journals and magazines.
PeoplesPress.org
[image error]
Education: do we do it to children or with them? When you look at the children’s faces in the portraits of this book, you will see their eyes pleading for the with answer. The essays and vignettes also present clear, passionate and evidence-based arguments for the with approach.
This collection of essays and photographs by a long-time progressive educator and photographer explores the art of teaching, the minds of children, and how the educational infrastructure stifles the growth of both. The portraits of schoolchildren taken over six decades invite pause and reflection — what are they asking for?
Innocents examines educational practices, debates and theory, and advocates learning with children rather than teaching to them. This is a passionate book about the intersection of education and the love of learning.
[image error]
George S. Stranahan is a lifelong educator. In 56 years of teaching he has left his mark in army, university, primary, high and charter schools.
He is a founder of Michigan Montessori Internationale, the Aspen Community School, the Early Childhood Center, the Carbondale Community School, and the Roaring Fork Teacher Education Project in partnership with the Graduate School of Education at Colorado University Boulder.
Stranahan served as Executive Director of the Aspen Educational Research Foundation (now COMPASS), and sat on the boards of the Aspen Institute and Colorado Mountain College, among many other community foundations and nonprofit organizations.
Stranahan is also a lifelong student. He received his B.S in Physics from the California Institute of Technology, and after two years in the Army, his M.S. and Ph.D in physics from Carnegie Institute of Technology. He eventually completed a Postdoctoral fellowship with Purdue University and has even learned the art of ranching from working the irrigation and fields on his Colorado ranch.
He has been featured in Education Week, Engineering and Science, Newsweek and several other education journals and magazines. His first book, Phlogs: Journey to the Heart of the Human Predicament, released in 2009 and won the Colorado Book Award’s Best Pictorial Book and The Indie Next Generation’s Grand Prize for Coffee Table / Photography Book. The author’s next essay and photography collection, A Predicament of Innocents, releases in February 2013 and features local schoolchildren spanning 30 years.
Stranahan’s photography has been exhibited in museums across the country, including the Toledo Museum of Art, New York Metropolitan Art Museum and Southport Summer Festival in Boston.
The passionate educator has received numerous accolades throughout his career, including the 2012 Jackie Morales Distinguished Award for Community Service; 1997 Martin Luther King, Jr. Humanitarian Award; 2011 Molly Campbell Service Award; 2005 Kentucky Colonel commission; and 2002 Aspen Hall of Fame induction. The Mayor of the City of Denver proclaimed “George Stranahan Day” on November 2, 1996. But his primary concern has been the role of education in building and shaping today’s society. His six children fired his passion for nurturing the problem-solving abilities and creativity in every single child.
My junior year at boarding school included German, Greek history, and for English we read Milton’s Paradise Lost and had to write a 500 word essay every weekday. Like everybody I wrote it longhand in pencil on lined paper. Mr. Gurney marked them up and returned within a couple of days, long after I remembered or cared for what I had written.
The next thing I wrote was my Ph.D. thesis on neutron proton capture at age 29. I wrote on Smith Corona, very slowly and deliberately. I had counted the number of pages of the shortest thesis currently in the physics library, and was determined to present one page less. That was not that easy, for there were many mathematical equations that each required a separating sentence before the next.
I didn’t write again until age 40, the year I spent teaching in the Okemos, Michigan high school. I had made a deal with the superintendent that if he smuggled me into the classroom I would write for him what I found there. What I found there were stories, stories of adolescents lost, confused, experimenting, yet sometimes hopeful. These I wrote each night in long hand in a spiral notebook, and in so doing found that I was writing the story of my own adolescence.
Now-a-days I rewrite these stories into a blog file titled You have to have three drinks to play in this sandbox. Three drinks are my own rule, and I follow it. A number of these will appear in my next book Phlogs Too, a sequel to Phlogs: Journey to the Heart of the Human Predicament that won the Colorado Books award in 2010. My friend, Hunter Thompson, was one of many whiskey writers. I wondered if I was one too, and there’s only one way to find out. My own assessment? Sometimes, but stay away from poetry.
A Predicament of Innocents is, like the Phlogs books, a deliberate mixture of photographs and words. They complement each other, or sometimes contradict each other. In either event there’s a tension between the pictures and the words. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but there’s an ambiguity, they’re not at all equal, and I think put together they present a challenge to the reader, Horseman, pass by.
Why write, why photograph? Why read, why look? You show me your thing, I’ll show you mine.
EDUCATOR OF 56 YEARS ADVOCATES LEARNING WITH CHILDREN RATHER THAN TEACHING TO THEM
A Predicament of Innocents features essays and photographs from George S. Stranahan
ASPEN, CO – December 2012 – “When a parent asks, ‘What did you do in school today?’ and the kid answers, ‘Nothing,’ I worry that this is indeed an accurate and complete account all too often,” writes 56-year progressive educator George S. Stranahan in his new book A Predicament of Innocents: Might the schools help? (People’s Press, Feb. 19, 2013).
In his decades of teaching at the army, university, primary, high and charter school levels, Stranahan’s primary concern has been the role of education in building and shaping today’s society. He believes and provides evidence-based arguments in his book that education is something that should be done with children, not to them.
“A teacher as instructor is in charge of everything – he does it to the kids. A teacher as community organizer makes a democratic classroom where everybody influenced by a decision has the opportunity to participate in the decision,” Stranahan explains. “Doing learning with them means they are indeed engaged in their own education, not just passively sitting there having it done to them.”
A Predicament of Innocents is a provocative collection of essays and photographs of local schoolchildren exploring the art of teaching, the minds of children, and how the current educational infrastructure stifles the growth of both. The book examines educational practices, debates and theory, and through it, Stranahan ultimately strives to force dialogue on the national level about what “school” really means.
“The public education, now attached to the military industrial complex, has totally lost its mission and will do great damage to society,” the author said. “I hope this book scares readers. I hope they see it as a call to action. If WE don’t wake up and pay attention to what’s going on in schools, nobody else will.”
Innocents is a follow up to Stranahan’s 2009 Phlogs: Journey to the Heart of the Human Predicament, which won the Colorado Book Award’s Best Pictorial Book and Indie Next Generation’s Grand Prize for Coffee Table / Photography Book. The author’s photography has been exhibited in museums across the country, including the Toledo Museum of Art, New York Metropolitan Art Museum and Southport Summer Festival in Boston.
Stranahan’s six children fired up his passion for nurturing the problem-solving abilities and creativity in every single child. He is a founder of Michigan Montessori Internationale, the Aspen Community School, the Early Childhood Center the Carbondale Community School, and the Roaring Fork Teacher Education Project in partnership with the Graduate School of Education at Colorado University Boulder. Stranahan served as Executive Director of the Aspen Educational Research Foundation (now COMPASS) and sat on the boards of many community foundations and nonprofit organizations. The passionate educator has been featured in Newsweek, Engineering and Science, Education Week and several other education journals and magazines.
PeoplesPress.org
[image error]
Education: do we do it to children or with them? When you look at the children’s faces in the portraits of this book, you will see their eyes pleading for the with answer. The essays and vignettes also present clear, passionate and evidence-based arguments for the with approach.
This collection of essays and photographs by a long-time progressive educator and photographer explores the art of teaching, the minds of children, and how the educational infrastructure stifles the growth of both. The portraits of schoolchildren taken over six decades invite pause and reflection — what are they asking for?
Innocents examines educational practices, debates and theory, and advocates learning with children rather than teaching to them. This is a passionate book about the intersection of education and the love of learning.
[image error]
George S. Stranahan is a lifelong educator. In 56 years of teaching he has left his mark in army, university, primary, high and charter schools.
He is a founder of Michigan Montessori Internationale, the Aspen Community School, the Early Childhood Center, the Carbondale Community School, and the Roaring Fork Teacher Education Project in partnership with the Graduate School of Education at Colorado University Boulder.
Stranahan served as Executive Director of the Aspen Educational Research Foundation (now COMPASS), and sat on the boards of the Aspen Institute and Colorado Mountain College, among many other community foundations and nonprofit organizations.
Stranahan is also a lifelong student. He received his B.S in Physics from the California Institute of Technology, and after two years in the Army, his M.S. and Ph.D in physics from Carnegie Institute of Technology. He eventually completed a Postdoctoral fellowship with Purdue University and has even learned the art of ranching from working the irrigation and fields on his Colorado ranch.
He has been featured in Education Week, Engineering and Science, Newsweek and several other education journals and magazines. His first book, Phlogs: Journey to the Heart of the Human Predicament, released in 2009 and won the Colorado Book Award’s Best Pictorial Book and The Indie Next Generation’s Grand Prize for Coffee Table / Photography Book. The author’s next essay and photography collection, A Predicament of Innocents, releases in February 2013 and features local schoolchildren spanning 30 years.
Stranahan’s photography has been exhibited in museums across the country, including the Toledo Museum of Art, New York Metropolitan Art Museum and Southport Summer Festival in Boston.
The passionate educator has received numerous accolades throughout his career, including the 2012 Jackie Morales Distinguished Award for Community Service; 1997 Martin Luther King, Jr. Humanitarian Award; 2011 Molly Campbell Service Award; 2005 Kentucky Colonel commission; and 2002 Aspen Hall of Fame induction. The Mayor of the City of Denver proclaimed “George Stranahan Day” on November 2, 1996. But his primary concern has been the role of education in building and shaping today’s society. His six children fired his passion for nurturing the problem-solving abilities and creativity in every single child.
January 17, 2013
Guest Post with Author, William Jack Sibley
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Below, In the voice of my main character, "Lester Briggs."
1. If you could travel in a Time Machine would you go back to the past or into the future?
Past definitely. Past is prologue.
2. If you could invite any 5 people to dinner who would you choose?
Manu Ginoblli, George Jones, Melissa Etheridge, Oprah and President Obama.
3. If you were stranded on a desert island what 3 things would you want with you?
"Little Ray", the hat Mr Otis gave me and an empty Wal Mart.
4. What is one book everyone should read?
The Bible
5. If you were a superhero what would your name be?
Captain Lovelorn!
6. If you could have any superpower what would you choose?
The ability to give everyone their perfect soulmate.
7. What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?
"Tutti-Fruitti" - my Dad's recipe, slowly hand-cranked on a long summers eve, surrounded by family and friends.
8. If you could meet one person who has died who would you choose?
Job
9. What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast?
A fried peach pie!
10. What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
(The Author speaking - "I'm the only person on the planet who has MY writing voice!")
11. Night owl, or early bird?
Early bird
12. One food you would never eat?
Beets
13. Please tell us in one sentence only, why we should read the book you're in.
Cause everyone, EVERYONE wants to love and be loved. Sometimes it's a lark and sometimes a lifelong pursuit. Frequently messy, maddeningly evasive and reliably frustrating it is everything dastardly and divine at once. What it is never not is NOT worth the price of buying a ticket and taking the ride. We are born passengers. All of us.
SIGHS TOO DEEP FOR WORDS
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"Sibley (Any Kind of Luck, 2002) blends skillful storytelling with a sharp insight into human nature in this darkly humorous, intricately plotted tale of a prison inmate who, through years of correspondence, falls in love with a woman he has never met—a woman who turns out not only to be a gay man, but a closeted gay minister.
Lester Briggs is serving a five-year prison term for stealing—of all things—a church. Out of prison early for good behavior, Lester leaves behind his cellmate and lover of convenience, “Little Ray,” and heads for the small town of Rockport, Texas, where he hopes to find Laurel Jeanette Yancey, the love of his life. He finds instead the closeted gay minister who has been writing to him; the minister’s lesbian sister; a kindly, old gas station manager who offers him advice and later a job; and a whole host of other colorful characters (most of whom end up having some bearing on the plot, however minor). Plotlines reach levels of mistaken identity, confusion and startling coincidence not often seen outside of farce or soap opera, but this infuses the events of the story with a genuine humor and insight that keeps the material fresh. Sibley deftly handles his characters’ emotions, from the brief connection between a distant father and son, to the emotional roller coaster Lester Briggs finds himself on—in love with the mind of a man and the body of that man’s lesbian sister, all while struggling to adjust to the realities of life outside of prison. It’s to Sibley’s credit that the emotional reality of the characters never suffers for the sometimes outlandish convolutions of the plot. Readers looking for an entertaining book with surprising touches of depth and emotion are sure to enjoy this fresh, dramatic tale.
Funny, touching, heartbreaking and insightful."
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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WILLIAM JACK SIBLEY - novelist, playwright, screenwriter, rancher
“What we ran away from so many years ago -- small towns, narrow minds, sexual repression, artistic suppression, suffocating families, unfulfilling jobs, busted marriages, lack of opportunity -- whatever it was, it does come back to bite you in the butt,” says William Jack Sibley. “What my first novel, Any Kind Of Luck (Kensington Publishing, NYC, August, 2001 -- paperback, August 2002, ISBN: 1575667665) ultimately conveys is that one should never be afraid to face those initial anxiety-provoking terrors -- going home, losing a relationship, career failure, death, illness, loneliness, apathy -- whatever. When difficult circumstances arise it helps to remember that all we’re really being offered is another brilliant opportunity for growth.” (Any Kind Of Luck was nominated for the 2001 Lambda Literary Awards - http://www.lambdaliterary.org/awards/..., runner-up for the Texas Institute of Letters, "Funniest Book of the Year", John Bloom Award, and the ForeWord Magazine Book of the Year Award -http://www.forewordmagazine.com/ftw/f...,, as well as chapter excerpted in "Southern Lights: PEN South, Literary Review, Vol II", Manya DeLeon Booksmith, ISBN: 0966460804; and Genre Magazine, chapter excerpt, August 2001 issue.) Any Kind Of Luck has remained the No. 1 seller in the Amazon.com Las Cruces, NM "Purchase Circle", outselling bestsellers on the list including works by Joyce Carol Oates, Tony Hillerman and "Harry Potter" Book 5. It was the sole August Book Review selection for the Las Cruces, Thomas Branigan Memorial Library Book Review Luncheon, moderated by Win Jacobs (8/12/03).
"ANY KIND OF LUCK" was recently added to the "Top 100 Gay Novels In American Literature" - http://www.elisarolle.com/ramblings/t...
Below, In the voice of my main character, "Lester Briggs."
1. If you could travel in a Time Machine would you go back to the past or into the future?
Past definitely. Past is prologue.
2. If you could invite any 5 people to dinner who would you choose?
Manu Ginoblli, George Jones, Melissa Etheridge, Oprah and President Obama.
3. If you were stranded on a desert island what 3 things would you want with you?
"Little Ray", the hat Mr Otis gave me and an empty Wal Mart.
4. What is one book everyone should read?
The Bible
5. If you were a superhero what would your name be?
Captain Lovelorn!
6. If you could have any superpower what would you choose?
The ability to give everyone their perfect soulmate.
7. What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?
"Tutti-Fruitti" - my Dad's recipe, slowly hand-cranked on a long summers eve, surrounded by family and friends.
8. If you could meet one person who has died who would you choose?
Job
9. What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast?
A fried peach pie!
10. What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
(The Author speaking - "I'm the only person on the planet who has MY writing voice!")
11. Night owl, or early bird?
Early bird
12. One food you would never eat?
Beets
13. Please tell us in one sentence only, why we should read the book you're in.
Cause everyone, EVERYONE wants to love and be loved. Sometimes it's a lark and sometimes a lifelong pursuit. Frequently messy, maddeningly evasive and reliably frustrating it is everything dastardly and divine at once. What it is never not is NOT worth the price of buying a ticket and taking the ride. We are born passengers. All of us.
SIGHS TOO DEEP FOR WORDS
[image error]
"Sibley (Any Kind of Luck, 2002) blends skillful storytelling with a sharp insight into human nature in this darkly humorous, intricately plotted tale of a prison inmate who, through years of correspondence, falls in love with a woman he has never met—a woman who turns out not only to be a gay man, but a closeted gay minister.
Lester Briggs is serving a five-year prison term for stealing—of all things—a church. Out of prison early for good behavior, Lester leaves behind his cellmate and lover of convenience, “Little Ray,” and heads for the small town of Rockport, Texas, where he hopes to find Laurel Jeanette Yancey, the love of his life. He finds instead the closeted gay minister who has been writing to him; the minister’s lesbian sister; a kindly, old gas station manager who offers him advice and later a job; and a whole host of other colorful characters (most of whom end up having some bearing on the plot, however minor). Plotlines reach levels of mistaken identity, confusion and startling coincidence not often seen outside of farce or soap opera, but this infuses the events of the story with a genuine humor and insight that keeps the material fresh. Sibley deftly handles his characters’ emotions, from the brief connection between a distant father and son, to the emotional roller coaster Lester Briggs finds himself on—in love with the mind of a man and the body of that man’s lesbian sister, all while struggling to adjust to the realities of life outside of prison. It’s to Sibley’s credit that the emotional reality of the characters never suffers for the sometimes outlandish convolutions of the plot. Readers looking for an entertaining book with surprising touches of depth and emotion are sure to enjoy this fresh, dramatic tale.
Funny, touching, heartbreaking and insightful."
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
[image error]
WILLIAM JACK SIBLEY - novelist, playwright, screenwriter, rancher
“What we ran away from so many years ago -- small towns, narrow minds, sexual repression, artistic suppression, suffocating families, unfulfilling jobs, busted marriages, lack of opportunity -- whatever it was, it does come back to bite you in the butt,” says William Jack Sibley. “What my first novel, Any Kind Of Luck (Kensington Publishing, NYC, August, 2001 -- paperback, August 2002, ISBN: 1575667665) ultimately conveys is that one should never be afraid to face those initial anxiety-provoking terrors -- going home, losing a relationship, career failure, death, illness, loneliness, apathy -- whatever. When difficult circumstances arise it helps to remember that all we’re really being offered is another brilliant opportunity for growth.” (Any Kind Of Luck was nominated for the 2001 Lambda Literary Awards - http://www.lambdaliterary.org/awards/..., runner-up for the Texas Institute of Letters, "Funniest Book of the Year", John Bloom Award, and the ForeWord Magazine Book of the Year Award -http://www.forewordmagazine.com/ftw/f...,, as well as chapter excerpted in "Southern Lights: PEN South, Literary Review, Vol II", Manya DeLeon Booksmith, ISBN: 0966460804; and Genre Magazine, chapter excerpt, August 2001 issue.) Any Kind Of Luck has remained the No. 1 seller in the Amazon.com Las Cruces, NM "Purchase Circle", outselling bestsellers on the list including works by Joyce Carol Oates, Tony Hillerman and "Harry Potter" Book 5. It was the sole August Book Review selection for the Las Cruces, Thomas Branigan Memorial Library Book Review Luncheon, moderated by Win Jacobs (8/12/03).
"ANY KIND OF LUCK" was recently added to the "Top 100 Gay Novels In American Literature" - http://www.elisarolle.com/ramblings/t...
January 15, 2013
Guest Post with Author, S.F. Chapman
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About the book: The Ripple in Space-Time
During the warm and sleepy mid-summer’s days of 2010, I had a few gossamer ideas for a new science fiction tale floating around in my head.
I now suspect that these bits and pieces came to me at that particular time mainly as an intriguing distraction to draw my attention away from the more pressing and daunting task of beginning my third novel, the soft science fiction piece entitledXea In The Library.
Xea is the sequel to my first work, the post-apocalyptic mystery called Floyd 5.136.
In one of those wonderful little moments of inspiration that led to much larger things, an irresistible title came to me while taking a long, hot shower: The Ripple In Space-Time.
I’d been considering the intriguing notion of ‘Space-Time,’ Albert Einstein’s speculation that space and time are inextricability linked together as the four dimension, after enjoying Isaac Asimov’s nonfiction work Atom: A Journey Across the Subatomic Cosmos, CalTech’s fantastic Mechanical Universe video lectures and Carl Sagan’s seminal series Cosmos.
The title fused together with a first chapter during a burst of nervous energy on the afternoon of August 12th.
For months I had been playing around with the idea of alternating viewpoints in a novel and I decided to write chapter 1 in the dry, formal style of a newspaper obituary. Where the novel would go from there, I had no idea at the time.
With Xea In The Library looming, I set The Ripple aside.
Almost exactly 6 months later, I returned to The Ripple In Space-Time.
Of all of my seven novels to date, I had the most fun writing this sometimes brutal, sometimes poignant and often quite tongue-in-check tale.
The Ripple in Space-Time will be available worldwide in paperback and as a Kindle e-Book on February 1st 2013.
Armed and barely dangerous S F Chapman January 3, 2013
I carry a knife around with me.
Folded up in my front left pants pocket is a black jackknife that I bought 5 months ago at the corner hardware store for $14.95. This particular bit of cutlery replaced a scared and tarnished nickel-plated pocketknife/multitool that I’d had for years. I finally gave up on the old contraption when the Phillips-head screwdriver blade wouldn’t stay folded and the tip endlessly jabbed me in the leg.
It’s an odd habit to carry around a potentially deadly weapon in these times.
Fortunately the ritual of slipping the jackknife into my pocket every morning has nothing to do with personal safety, it instead trails back to two other idiosyncrasies: I have a passion for tools, especially those that can be clutched in one hand, and I like to be prepared for any difficulty that might present itself.
The matter of tools has familial roots. I sometimes imagine that a Neanderthal version of myself probably pulled a razor sharp flint blade from under his bearskin grab to clean out the cave gunk from under his fingernails when he got bored. Certainly my more recent Spanish Californio, Canadian Woodsmen and New England Yankee ancestors carried around knives to help them deal with daily difficulties. A sharp steel edge can quickly produce several lengths of acceptable cord from a leather hide to lash together objects or perhaps be used to shave off the moldy parts from a block of goat cheese.
Nearly all of the adult male members of my sizable family share two qualities: pocketknives and mustaches.
At birthday celebrations or Christmas get-togethers when the little nieces and nephews struggle with the nearly impossible to open clear fortresses that protect Barbie dolls and Buzz Lightyears, an uncle or an older cousin sporting facial hair and a knife blade will free the inextricable plastic prisoners and save the day. Beaming munchkins are the reward for this benevolence.
On my twelfth birthday my father gave me my first pocketknife. Nicely wrapped in plain red paper (probably by my mother) was a velvet-lined paperboard box that contained a Boy Scout pocketknife with four shiny folding blades and a fake bone handle.
I entered the Scouts a few months earlier mainly to be allowed the privilege to carry around the tangible symbol of preparedness and imagined manhood. At my grade school in the late 1960’s only Boy Scouts were permitted to possess pocketknives. Dozens of smug Sixth Grade lads joined up and carried around these folded up weapons of minimal destruction. Never was one displayed in anger which, we had been profusely forewarned, would cause the Principal to confiscate the coveted object. Often they were used to tighten the hinge screws on a pair of glasses, adjust the inner workings of a finicky Bell & Howell movie projector or pry open an aluminum Snack Pack Pudding can when the metal pop-top had broken off.
I kept the pocketknife with me long after I’d left the Scouts, carried in my left pocket through Middle School, High School and into college. I used the screwdriver to adjust the ignition points on my first car. I sliced open stacks of cardboard shipping boxes at various jobs. I cleaned the gunk from under my fingernails when I got bored.
When it came to picking various visual elements for the cover of my science fiction novel The Ripple in Space-Time, there wasn’t much doubt that a knife of some sort should be part of the image. I settled on a dagger, an especially impressive one at that, as a symbol of the power and perceived menace presented by some of the important characters in the book.
Now as the book is going to press and glance at the cover, I find myself grinning, I have a miniature folding version of the tool in my left front pants pocket.
Synopsis:
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Inspector Ryo Trop of the Free City Inquisitor's Office is called in when the Lunar Ultra Energy Lab is destroyed by a mysterious blast.
Ryo quickly discovers that a complex and sinister scheme is afoot as he searches for clues in the moldering feudal fiefdoms of the Warlords that dominate human affairs in 2445.
As he struggles with the difficult case, the same question keeps popping up: Could the recent wave of space piracy be connected to the disaster?
About the Author:
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S F Chapman has done it all. He spent 4 years as a truck driver, 8 years as a scientific glass blower and 20 years as a building contractor. He’s a computer geek, handyman, music lover and relentless tinkerer.
But he is most excited about his latest endeavor. In the next five years, Chapman plans to release 12 books. His first, I’m here to help, launched on July 1, 2012. His next release is the science fiction detective tale The Ripple in Space-Time due out on February 1, 2013.
Born in Berkeley, Chapman is a California boy for life. He grew up on the Pacific coast and has spent the last 54 years in the San Francisco Bay Area.
He’s the third of twelve children, born to an endearing stay-at-home mother and traveling salesman father during the 1960s Space Race.
While working on his liberal arts degree at Diablo Valley College, Chapman chose mostly classes in the English Department, focusing on science fiction literature, composition and short story writing. He generated nearly a dozen short stories in two years and considers that period to be the beginning of his writing career.
S F's six works so far are the post-apocalyptic soft science fiction MAC Series consisting of Floyd 5.136, Xea in the Library and Beyond the Habitable Limit; the science fiction detective story entitled The Ripple in Space-Time, the literary novella I’m here to help and the general fiction tale of death and destruction called On the Back of the Beast. He is currently alternating between two entirely different writing projects; the first is a rough and tumble literary novel about homelessness called The Missive In The Margins and the second is a science fiction detective squeal to The Ripple in Space-Time dubbed Torn From On High.
He is the proud papa of a 19-year-old son and 16-year-old daughter.
S F's huge gray male tabby cat keeps him company while he writes and was the inspiration for Striped Cat Press.
About the book: The Ripple in Space-Time
During the warm and sleepy mid-summer’s days of 2010, I had a few gossamer ideas for a new science fiction tale floating around in my head.
I now suspect that these bits and pieces came to me at that particular time mainly as an intriguing distraction to draw my attention away from the more pressing and daunting task of beginning my third novel, the soft science fiction piece entitledXea In The Library.
Xea is the sequel to my first work, the post-apocalyptic mystery called Floyd 5.136.
In one of those wonderful little moments of inspiration that led to much larger things, an irresistible title came to me while taking a long, hot shower: The Ripple In Space-Time.
I’d been considering the intriguing notion of ‘Space-Time,’ Albert Einstein’s speculation that space and time are inextricability linked together as the four dimension, after enjoying Isaac Asimov’s nonfiction work Atom: A Journey Across the Subatomic Cosmos, CalTech’s fantastic Mechanical Universe video lectures and Carl Sagan’s seminal series Cosmos.
The title fused together with a first chapter during a burst of nervous energy on the afternoon of August 12th.
For months I had been playing around with the idea of alternating viewpoints in a novel and I decided to write chapter 1 in the dry, formal style of a newspaper obituary. Where the novel would go from there, I had no idea at the time.
With Xea In The Library looming, I set The Ripple aside.
Almost exactly 6 months later, I returned to The Ripple In Space-Time.
Of all of my seven novels to date, I had the most fun writing this sometimes brutal, sometimes poignant and often quite tongue-in-check tale.
The Ripple in Space-Time will be available worldwide in paperback and as a Kindle e-Book on February 1st 2013.
Armed and barely dangerous S F Chapman January 3, 2013
I carry a knife around with me.
Folded up in my front left pants pocket is a black jackknife that I bought 5 months ago at the corner hardware store for $14.95. This particular bit of cutlery replaced a scared and tarnished nickel-plated pocketknife/multitool that I’d had for years. I finally gave up on the old contraption when the Phillips-head screwdriver blade wouldn’t stay folded and the tip endlessly jabbed me in the leg.
It’s an odd habit to carry around a potentially deadly weapon in these times.
Fortunately the ritual of slipping the jackknife into my pocket every morning has nothing to do with personal safety, it instead trails back to two other idiosyncrasies: I have a passion for tools, especially those that can be clutched in one hand, and I like to be prepared for any difficulty that might present itself.
The matter of tools has familial roots. I sometimes imagine that a Neanderthal version of myself probably pulled a razor sharp flint blade from under his bearskin grab to clean out the cave gunk from under his fingernails when he got bored. Certainly my more recent Spanish Californio, Canadian Woodsmen and New England Yankee ancestors carried around knives to help them deal with daily difficulties. A sharp steel edge can quickly produce several lengths of acceptable cord from a leather hide to lash together objects or perhaps be used to shave off the moldy parts from a block of goat cheese.
Nearly all of the adult male members of my sizable family share two qualities: pocketknives and mustaches.
At birthday celebrations or Christmas get-togethers when the little nieces and nephews struggle with the nearly impossible to open clear fortresses that protect Barbie dolls and Buzz Lightyears, an uncle or an older cousin sporting facial hair and a knife blade will free the inextricable plastic prisoners and save the day. Beaming munchkins are the reward for this benevolence.
On my twelfth birthday my father gave me my first pocketknife. Nicely wrapped in plain red paper (probably by my mother) was a velvet-lined paperboard box that contained a Boy Scout pocketknife with four shiny folding blades and a fake bone handle.
I entered the Scouts a few months earlier mainly to be allowed the privilege to carry around the tangible symbol of preparedness and imagined manhood. At my grade school in the late 1960’s only Boy Scouts were permitted to possess pocketknives. Dozens of smug Sixth Grade lads joined up and carried around these folded up weapons of minimal destruction. Never was one displayed in anger which, we had been profusely forewarned, would cause the Principal to confiscate the coveted object. Often they were used to tighten the hinge screws on a pair of glasses, adjust the inner workings of a finicky Bell & Howell movie projector or pry open an aluminum Snack Pack Pudding can when the metal pop-top had broken off.
I kept the pocketknife with me long after I’d left the Scouts, carried in my left pocket through Middle School, High School and into college. I used the screwdriver to adjust the ignition points on my first car. I sliced open stacks of cardboard shipping boxes at various jobs. I cleaned the gunk from under my fingernails when I got bored.
When it came to picking various visual elements for the cover of my science fiction novel The Ripple in Space-Time, there wasn’t much doubt that a knife of some sort should be part of the image. I settled on a dagger, an especially impressive one at that, as a symbol of the power and perceived menace presented by some of the important characters in the book.
Now as the book is going to press and glance at the cover, I find myself grinning, I have a miniature folding version of the tool in my left front pants pocket.
Synopsis:
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Inspector Ryo Trop of the Free City Inquisitor's Office is called in when the Lunar Ultra Energy Lab is destroyed by a mysterious blast.
Ryo quickly discovers that a complex and sinister scheme is afoot as he searches for clues in the moldering feudal fiefdoms of the Warlords that dominate human affairs in 2445.
As he struggles with the difficult case, the same question keeps popping up: Could the recent wave of space piracy be connected to the disaster?
About the Author:
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S F Chapman has done it all. He spent 4 years as a truck driver, 8 years as a scientific glass blower and 20 years as a building contractor. He’s a computer geek, handyman, music lover and relentless tinkerer.
But he is most excited about his latest endeavor. In the next five years, Chapman plans to release 12 books. His first, I’m here to help, launched on July 1, 2012. His next release is the science fiction detective tale The Ripple in Space-Time due out on February 1, 2013.
Born in Berkeley, Chapman is a California boy for life. He grew up on the Pacific coast and has spent the last 54 years in the San Francisco Bay Area.
He’s the third of twelve children, born to an endearing stay-at-home mother and traveling salesman father during the 1960s Space Race.
While working on his liberal arts degree at Diablo Valley College, Chapman chose mostly classes in the English Department, focusing on science fiction literature, composition and short story writing. He generated nearly a dozen short stories in two years and considers that period to be the beginning of his writing career.
S F's six works so far are the post-apocalyptic soft science fiction MAC Series consisting of Floyd 5.136, Xea in the Library and Beyond the Habitable Limit; the science fiction detective story entitled The Ripple in Space-Time, the literary novella I’m here to help and the general fiction tale of death and destruction called On the Back of the Beast. He is currently alternating between two entirely different writing projects; the first is a rough and tumble literary novel about homelessness called The Missive In The Margins and the second is a science fiction detective squeal to The Ripple in Space-Time dubbed Torn From On High.
He is the proud papa of a 19-year-old son and 16-year-old daughter.
S F's huge gray male tabby cat keeps him company while he writes and was the inspiration for Striped Cat Press.
January 14, 2013
Guest Post with Author R. Thomas Roe
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How much of the book is real?
Much of the novel is real. The geographic venue of the novel is as accurate as I could make it. The Tombigbee and Black Warrior Rivers are located as depicted, as are Forkland, Eutaw, Demopolis, the Columbus Road, the Eutaw Road, Saint Johns Church, the hotel at Forkland, the University of Alabama at Tuscaloosa, the battle sites and events. The fictional part of the novel deals almost solely with the activities of the characters. Rosehill Plantation is modeled after a plantation at the site described in the novel. Some of the characters in the novel are modeled after real people that lived at the times indicated. The University history of being burned down by the Union Force occurred as described, as did the attempt to thwart it. The presence of diseases such as Yellow-jack or Yellow fever and Cholera took many lives in the years the novel encompasses. Likewise, childbirth was an iffy situation for both mother and child. Blood transfusions had not been rendered relatively safe procedures at that time. The tremendous violence that occurred after the War in Greene County was sourced primarily from the testimony referenced in the preface.
Your own family history helped shape the overall plot and factual elements. What other research did you have to do to flesh out the story?
Just relatively minor points did I have to research primarily for clarity. How transfusions were carried out, I had to research. I researched the history of the University of Alabama to get the facts depicted in the novel. I had done quite a bit of reading on Alabama history before writing this novel, which gave me a basic understanding of what had occurred during the Civil War years.
How much does River’s father’s disappearance affect him as he’s growing into a man?
River was guided primarily by his mother’s Indian background and her teachings of Indian principles and culture throughout his life. His father’s contact with River was limited by reason of his lifestyle as a trapper and by the fact he was no longer around after River was five or so years old.
Are your fictional characters based on anyone in real life?
Yes. James Henry is based on a real person, but the story line is partly fictional. River’s mother and father are based on real life. His mother did move on down to Forkland as depicted and lived in the same location as described in the novel. His father did disappear as described, presumably on a trapping trip. River’s mother was a Cherokee Indian. River was a composite character from many I knew or had read about. River was created for the novel. The African American characters in the novel, Mammy and Will, were recreations of stories I was aware of that dealt with characters my family was in contact with in times past. They were composite characters drawn up from those that lived in former times.
The Alabama Rebel: A Novel of Courage Amid Conflict
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Synopsis: This historically based novel is a window into Alabama both before, during and after the Civil War. River Hunter is the son of a Cherokee mother and a Scotch-Irish father who has a unique perspective on a society that undergoes a radical shift forced on it by the War. River's father is presumed dead after disappearing on a trapping trip into the mountains of the Carolinas, so, River's mother gathers her children and they move to the cotton belt of Alabama to avoid being shipped west by President Jackson during the Removal time for Native Americans. River rapidly adapts to the new life and has an insatiable appetite for knowledge, reading books at every opportunity. In time he obtains a formal education at recognized academies and universities. Following his heroic service in the Confederate Army during the Civil War and schooling at one of the nation's most prestigious law schools, River becomes an attorney. He is then betrothed to a beautiful young woman who has inherited a substantial plantation upon the death of her husband in the War. Many problems plague the young couple from the forces existing in the South after the War to the prejudicial attitudes of River's in-laws to the polarized politics between the newly freed Slaves and their former owners. This fascinating novel exams all sides within the context of a very unique segment of American history.
Book Information:
ISBN: 978-1935991816
Fiction, 286 Pages
Signalman Publishing, October 2, 2012
Available on Paperback
How much of the book is real?
Much of the novel is real. The geographic venue of the novel is as accurate as I could make it. The Tombigbee and Black Warrior Rivers are located as depicted, as are Forkland, Eutaw, Demopolis, the Columbus Road, the Eutaw Road, Saint Johns Church, the hotel at Forkland, the University of Alabama at Tuscaloosa, the battle sites and events. The fictional part of the novel deals almost solely with the activities of the characters. Rosehill Plantation is modeled after a plantation at the site described in the novel. Some of the characters in the novel are modeled after real people that lived at the times indicated. The University history of being burned down by the Union Force occurred as described, as did the attempt to thwart it. The presence of diseases such as Yellow-jack or Yellow fever and Cholera took many lives in the years the novel encompasses. Likewise, childbirth was an iffy situation for both mother and child. Blood transfusions had not been rendered relatively safe procedures at that time. The tremendous violence that occurred after the War in Greene County was sourced primarily from the testimony referenced in the preface.
Your own family history helped shape the overall plot and factual elements. What other research did you have to do to flesh out the story?
Just relatively minor points did I have to research primarily for clarity. How transfusions were carried out, I had to research. I researched the history of the University of Alabama to get the facts depicted in the novel. I had done quite a bit of reading on Alabama history before writing this novel, which gave me a basic understanding of what had occurred during the Civil War years.
How much does River’s father’s disappearance affect him as he’s growing into a man?
River was guided primarily by his mother’s Indian background and her teachings of Indian principles and culture throughout his life. His father’s contact with River was limited by reason of his lifestyle as a trapper and by the fact he was no longer around after River was five or so years old.
Are your fictional characters based on anyone in real life?
Yes. James Henry is based on a real person, but the story line is partly fictional. River’s mother and father are based on real life. His mother did move on down to Forkland as depicted and lived in the same location as described in the novel. His father did disappear as described, presumably on a trapping trip. River’s mother was a Cherokee Indian. River was a composite character from many I knew or had read about. River was created for the novel. The African American characters in the novel, Mammy and Will, were recreations of stories I was aware of that dealt with characters my family was in contact with in times past. They were composite characters drawn up from those that lived in former times.
The Alabama Rebel: A Novel of Courage Amid Conflict
[image error]
Synopsis: This historically based novel is a window into Alabama both before, during and after the Civil War. River Hunter is the son of a Cherokee mother and a Scotch-Irish father who has a unique perspective on a society that undergoes a radical shift forced on it by the War. River's father is presumed dead after disappearing on a trapping trip into the mountains of the Carolinas, so, River's mother gathers her children and they move to the cotton belt of Alabama to avoid being shipped west by President Jackson during the Removal time for Native Americans. River rapidly adapts to the new life and has an insatiable appetite for knowledge, reading books at every opportunity. In time he obtains a formal education at recognized academies and universities. Following his heroic service in the Confederate Army during the Civil War and schooling at one of the nation's most prestigious law schools, River becomes an attorney. He is then betrothed to a beautiful young woman who has inherited a substantial plantation upon the death of her husband in the War. Many problems plague the young couple from the forces existing in the South after the War to the prejudicial attitudes of River's in-laws to the polarized politics between the newly freed Slaves and their former owners. This fascinating novel exams all sides within the context of a very unique segment of American history.
Book Information:
ISBN: 978-1935991816
Fiction, 286 Pages
Signalman Publishing, October 2, 2012
Available on Paperback
January 11, 2013
Guest Post with Author, Jenny Milchman "Cover of Snow"
No Plan B: How Not to Give Up, Never, Not Ever
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As I write this, my first novel, Cover of Snow, is coming out in 35 days, 2 hours, 55 minutes, and 45 seconds. But who’s counting? Well, I am, or at least the countdown at the bottom of my website is: http://jennymilchman.com
If I’d known way back when to start counting, the first number wouldn’t have reflected days, but years. It took me over thirteen of them—years, that is—to reach this point, and whenever I share that number I get one of two reactions.
Some people nod in instant agreement. “Took me twelve,” they say. Or nine. Or even—gasp—twenty-two.
While others are shocked. “How did you last thirteen years?” they ask.
At that point, I usually start wondering, too. It’s like recalling childbirth. How did you get through all the anxiety and pain and the feeling that you just couldn’t do it? (In case you had a fast and easy labor, well, there are also writers whose books sold in seventy-two hours and became instant bestsellers. I’m just not one of them).
I thought I would share some thoughts about how I hung in there. Even if you’re not a writer, they may apply to a dream you’re hoping will come true, or a goal you wish to achieve. Hey, maybe they’ll even help in labor.
But before I do, I have to describe a few of the dark moments I faced during those thirteen years.
There was the night that a bestselling author was scheduled to read at a Barnes & Noble two hours from my house. I went to book signings and events to see how authors did these things, in case I ever got the chance myself, and also because writing, like most careers, is only helped by community-building and getting to know people in the field.
Yes, I was looking for help. By this point—ten years in—pretty desperately looking.
It started to snow while I drove, so the two hour drive became three hours. Of course, I got lost. I was late. When I called my husband (who is the best GPS ever—why can’t the Garmin be more like him?), I snapped at him out of sheer stress. I ran into the bookstore, frantic, feeling guilty for snapping, and my heart sank when I saw how crowded the event was. I couldn’t find a seat. I forced myself to stick around, last on line both because of the time I arrived, and because I was hoping to chat for a minute or two, at least introduce myself. But by the time I reached the front of the line, the author looked so exhausted that I just mumbled a hello. I didn’t even say my name.
I went outside, where the snow had thickened, and contemplated my long drive home to make peace with my husband. When I got there, my preschool-age son had thrown up for the first time. And I wasn’t even there.
Can we say low point?
There were a lot of what I call bridesmaid events. Book launches I attended for friends when my own book had been set on simmer for years. When you’re a bridesmaid, you’re happy for your friend. You really genuinely are. There are so many talented writers out there, and it’s a triumph when any one of us gets the recognition she or he deserves. But do you picture yourself in something long and white, too? Of course you do. Do tears rise when you contemplate never wearing it?
I’m here to tell you—of course they do.
Then there was the time I was at work. At a certain point I stopped practicing psychotherapy to take care of my kids and focus on writing. Boy, was this a leap of faith. Mostly on the part of my husband, Mr. Human GPS, who had to tolerate my snapping almost as many times as there are numbers in that countdown. (OK, not that many. I hope). I hadn’t earned a dime from writing. Who was I to take this sort of financial risk?
But this was before I stopped working outside the home. My first two books hadn’t sold, but I had just sent my third novel off to my first agent, and if those numbers make your head spin, it gets worse. I got a message that my agent had called. Great, I thought. Can’t wait to hear her plan for selling the new book.I placed the call between sessions.
“I read your book,” my agent said.
“Imm hmm,” I replied. “Great. Thank you.”
A pause. “And I didn’t like it.”
What did I do then? Well, I got a second agent. After sending eighty queries out and attending a writing retreat. To put some sort of time line to this, my first child was a year old when I was dumped by my agent, and I was about to give birth to my second by the time I got signed again.
How did I survive that moment and all the others? Not just survive, but get past it so that one day I could reach a time when things finally worked? I chalk it up to three things:
Support. There’s the aforementioned husband, and my family. It’s possible to do these things alone, but when you have support it gets a whole lot more possible. I honestly don’t know if I could have done this on my own. I feel like writing is who I am, who I’m meant to be. But boy am I grateful for the other people who thought so, too. If you don’t have that support built into your life, it’s possible to get it in writers groups, from good friends, even clergy. Seek out supportive figures. You deserve them, and you need them.
Fantasy. When things were bleak, I propelled myself into a different scenario. I pictured it just as if it were happening. Sometimes it seemed realer than what was happening. It may be easier to do this if you’re a writer of fiction, but it’s doable for anyone. Jot some notes, draw a (doesn’t matter if it’s bad) picture, or watch a movie about someone who experiences a triumph. See it as if it’s happening to you. Before you go to sleep, tell yourself it is happening. One day, it might be.
Commitment. Just before Jim Carrey got his first big part, he wrote himself a check for ten million dollars. Taylor Swift’s parents moved the whole family to Nashville when she was just a junior high school girl who liked to write songs. And Olympic athletes often follow their coaches to far-flung locations. Me, I stopped working outside the home. Whatever you want to do, find a way to commit to it, either symbolically or with a tangible action. Make a statement—to yourself and the world—that this is what you intend to do. Because when you do, as Will Smith says, “The universe is going to get out of your way.”
The most despairing moment I ever faced along this journey wasn’t any book that didn’t sell, or agent that dumped me, or rejection that came in. It was the times I decided to give up. I couldn’t do this anymore. It was never going to happen. Those are powerful words—game-killing words. Don’t let yourself say them. Don’t sink that low.
You can tolerate a lot of badness so long as you just stay in the game. Unless you quit trying, you haven’t failed—you just haven’t succeeded yet.
Another thing Will Smith says? “There is no reason to have a Plan B because it distracts from Plan A.” In the words of Van Morrison, Born to sing.
Let’s all get out there and make some music.
Jenny Milchman is a suspense novelist from New Jersey whose short stories have appeared in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, Adirondack Mysteries II, and in an e-published volume called Lunch Reads. Jenny is the founder of Take Your Child to a Bookstore Day, and the chair of International Thriller Writers’ Debut Authors Program. Her first novel, Cover of Snow, is published by Ballantine.
Synopsis of “Cover of Snow”
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Waking up one wintry morning in her old farmhouse nestled in the Adirondack Mountains of New York, Nora Hamilton instantly knows that something is wrong. When her fog of sleep clears, she finds her world is suddenly, irretrievably shattered: Her husband, Brendan, has committed suicide.
The first few hours following Nora’s devastating discovery pass for her in a blur of numbness and disbelief. Then, a disturbing awareness slowly settles in: Brendan left no note and gave no indication that he was contemplating taking his own life. Why would a rock-solid police officer with unwavering affection for his wife, job, and quaint hometown suddenly choose to end it all? Having spent a lifetime avoiding hard truths, Nora must now start facing them.
Unraveling her late husband’s final days, Nora searches for answers—but meets with bewildering resistance from Brendan’s best friend and partner, his fellow police officers, and his brittle mother. It quickly becomes clear to Nora that she is asking questions no one wants to answer. For beneath the soft cover of snow lies a powerful conspiracy that will stop at nothing to keep its presence unknown … and its darkest secrets hidden.
Excerpt…
Chapter One
My husband wasn’t in bed with me when I woke up that January morning. The mid-winter sky was bruised purple and yellow outside the window. I shut bleary eyes against light that glared and pounded.
A second later I realized my toes weren’t burrowing into the hollows behind Brendan’s knees, that when I flung out my arm it didn’t meet his wiry chest, the stony muscles gone slack with sleep. I slid my hand toward the night table, fingers scrabbling around for our alarm clock.
Seven-thirty.
It was late. As if drugged, my brain was making sense of things only after a dull delay. But it was a full hour past the time I always woke up. We always woke up. Brendan slept a cop’s sleep, perpetually ready to take action, and I had been an early riser all my thirty-five years.
Bits of things began to take shape in my mind.
The morning light, which entered so stridently through the window.
Brendan not in bed with me. He must’ve gotten up already. I hadn’t even felt him move.
But Brendan had been working late all week; I hadn’t yet found out why. My husband had good reason to sleep in. And if he had risen on time, why didn’t he wake me?
I felt a squeezing in my belly. Brendan knew I had an eight o’clock meeting with a new client this morning, the owner of a lovely but ramshackle old saltbox in need of repair. My husband took my burgeoning business as seriously as I did. He would never let me miss a meeting.
On the other hand, Brendan would know that if I slept late, then I must be worn out. Maybe getting Phoenix off the ground had taken more out of me than I realized. Brendan probably figured he’d give me a few extra minutes, and the morning just got away from him.
He must be somewhere in his normal routine now, toweling off, or fixing coffee.
Except I didn’t hear the shower dripping. Or smell the telltale, welcome scent of my morning fix.
I pushed myself out of bed with hands that felt stiff and clumsy, as if I were wearing mittens. What was wrong with me? I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror and noticed puddles of lavender under my eyes. It was like I hadn’t slept a wink, instead of an extra hour.
“Brendan? Honey? You up?”
My words shattered the air, and I realized how very still our old farmhouse was this morning.
Padding toward the bathroom, one explanation for the weight in my muscles, not to mention my stuporous sleep, occurred to me.
Brendan and I had made love last night.
It had been one of the good times; me lying back afterward, hollow, cored out, the way I got when Brendan was able to focus completely on me, on us, instead of moving so fiercely that he seemed to be riding off to some distant place in the past. We’d even lain awake for a while in the waning moments before sleep, fingers intertwined, Brendan studying me in a way that I felt more than saw in the dark.
“Honey? Last night tired me out, I guess. Not that it wasn’t worth it.”
I felt a smile tease the corners of my mouth, and pushed open the bathroom door, expecting a billow of steam. When only brittle air emerged, I felt that grabbing in my gut again. Cold tile bit my bare feet.
“Brendan?”
My husband never started the day without a shower, claiming that a night’s sleep made him ache. But there was no residue of moisture filming the mirror, nor fragrance of soap in the air. I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my shoulders for warmth, and trotted toward the stairs, calling out his name.
No answer.
Could he have gone to the station early? Left me sleeping while my new client waited at his dilapidated house?
“Honey! Are you home?” My voice sounded uncertain.
No answer. And then I heard the chug of our coffeepot.
Relief flowed through me, thick and creamy as soup. Until that moment, I hadn’t let myself acknowledge that I was scared. I wasn’t an over-reactor by nature usually.
I headed downstairs, feet more sure now, but with that wobbly, airless feeling in the knees that comes as fear departs.
The kitchen was empty when I entered, the coffee a dark, widening stain in the pot. It continued to sputter and spit while I stood there.
There was no mug out, waiting for its cold jolt of milk. No light was turned on against the weak morning sunshine. Nobody had been in the icy kitchen yet today. This machine had been programmed last night, one of the chores accomplished as Brendan and I passed back and forth in the tight space, stepping around each other to clean up after dinner.
That thing in my belly took hold, and this time it didn’t let go. I didn’t call out again.
The sedated feeling was disappearing now, cobwebs tearing apart, and my thinking suddenly cleared. I brushed past the deep farm sink, a tall, painted cabinet.
With icy hands, I opened the door to the back stairs, whose walls I was presently laboring over to make perfect for Brendan. Maybe, just maybe, he’d skipped his shower and called in late to work in order to spend time in his hideaway upstairs.
The servants’ stairs were steep and narrow, with a sudden turn and wells worn deep in each step. I climbed the first two slowly, bypassing a few tools and a can of stripper, then twisted my body around the corner. I took in the faded wallpaper I’d only just reached after months of careful scraping.
Perhaps I didn’t have enough momentum, but I slipped, solidly whacking both knees as I went down. Crouching there, gritting my teeth against the smarting pain, I looked up toward the top of the flight.
Brendan was above me, suspended from a thick hank of rope.
The rope was knotted around a stained-glass globe, which hung in the cracked ceiling plaster.
Brendan’s neck tilted slightly, the angle odd. His handsome face looked like it was bathed entirely in red wine.
Suddenly a small cyclone of powder spilled down, and I heard a splitting sound. There was a rip, a tear, the noise of two worlds cracking apart, and then a deafening series of thuds.
The light fixture completed its plummet, and broke with a tinkling sprinkle of glass. A tangle of ice-cold limbs and body parts slugged me, heavy as lead blankets.
And I screamed, and screamed, and screamed, until the warble my voice had been before became no more than a gasping strain for air.
Author Biography
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Jenny Milchman is a suspense writer from New Jersey. Her debut novel, COVER OF SNOW, is forthcoming from Ballantine in January 2013 and is available for pre-order now. Her short story The Closet was published in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine in November 2012. Another short story, The Very Old Man, has been an Amazon bestseller, and the short work Black Sun on Tupper Lake appears in the anthology ADIRONDACK MYSTERIES II.
Jenny is the Chair of the International Thriller Writers’ Debut Authors Program. She is also the founder of Take Your Child to a Bookstore Day, which was celebrated last year in all 50 states and four foreign countries by 350-and-growing bookstores.
Jenny hosts the Made It Moments forum on her blog, which has featured more than 250 international bestsellers, Edgar winners and independent authors. She co-hosts the literary series Writing Matters, which attracts guests coast-to-coast and has received national media attention, and loves to teach and speak about writing and publishing for New York Writers Workshop, Arts By The People, and WomenWhoWrite.
Contact Jenny!
Website: JennyMilchman.com
TakeYourChildtoaBookstore.org
Twitter @JennyMilchman Facebook Cover of Snow Goodreads Jenny Milchman
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As I write this, my first novel, Cover of Snow, is coming out in 35 days, 2 hours, 55 minutes, and 45 seconds. But who’s counting? Well, I am, or at least the countdown at the bottom of my website is: http://jennymilchman.com
If I’d known way back when to start counting, the first number wouldn’t have reflected days, but years. It took me over thirteen of them—years, that is—to reach this point, and whenever I share that number I get one of two reactions.
Some people nod in instant agreement. “Took me twelve,” they say. Or nine. Or even—gasp—twenty-two.
While others are shocked. “How did you last thirteen years?” they ask.
At that point, I usually start wondering, too. It’s like recalling childbirth. How did you get through all the anxiety and pain and the feeling that you just couldn’t do it? (In case you had a fast and easy labor, well, there are also writers whose books sold in seventy-two hours and became instant bestsellers. I’m just not one of them).
I thought I would share some thoughts about how I hung in there. Even if you’re not a writer, they may apply to a dream you’re hoping will come true, or a goal you wish to achieve. Hey, maybe they’ll even help in labor.
But before I do, I have to describe a few of the dark moments I faced during those thirteen years.
There was the night that a bestselling author was scheduled to read at a Barnes & Noble two hours from my house. I went to book signings and events to see how authors did these things, in case I ever got the chance myself, and also because writing, like most careers, is only helped by community-building and getting to know people in the field.
Yes, I was looking for help. By this point—ten years in—pretty desperately looking.
It started to snow while I drove, so the two hour drive became three hours. Of course, I got lost. I was late. When I called my husband (who is the best GPS ever—why can’t the Garmin be more like him?), I snapped at him out of sheer stress. I ran into the bookstore, frantic, feeling guilty for snapping, and my heart sank when I saw how crowded the event was. I couldn’t find a seat. I forced myself to stick around, last on line both because of the time I arrived, and because I was hoping to chat for a minute or two, at least introduce myself. But by the time I reached the front of the line, the author looked so exhausted that I just mumbled a hello. I didn’t even say my name.
I went outside, where the snow had thickened, and contemplated my long drive home to make peace with my husband. When I got there, my preschool-age son had thrown up for the first time. And I wasn’t even there.
Can we say low point?
There were a lot of what I call bridesmaid events. Book launches I attended for friends when my own book had been set on simmer for years. When you’re a bridesmaid, you’re happy for your friend. You really genuinely are. There are so many talented writers out there, and it’s a triumph when any one of us gets the recognition she or he deserves. But do you picture yourself in something long and white, too? Of course you do. Do tears rise when you contemplate never wearing it?
I’m here to tell you—of course they do.
Then there was the time I was at work. At a certain point I stopped practicing psychotherapy to take care of my kids and focus on writing. Boy, was this a leap of faith. Mostly on the part of my husband, Mr. Human GPS, who had to tolerate my snapping almost as many times as there are numbers in that countdown. (OK, not that many. I hope). I hadn’t earned a dime from writing. Who was I to take this sort of financial risk?
But this was before I stopped working outside the home. My first two books hadn’t sold, but I had just sent my third novel off to my first agent, and if those numbers make your head spin, it gets worse. I got a message that my agent had called. Great, I thought. Can’t wait to hear her plan for selling the new book.I placed the call between sessions.
“I read your book,” my agent said.
“Imm hmm,” I replied. “Great. Thank you.”
A pause. “And I didn’t like it.”
What did I do then? Well, I got a second agent. After sending eighty queries out and attending a writing retreat. To put some sort of time line to this, my first child was a year old when I was dumped by my agent, and I was about to give birth to my second by the time I got signed again.
How did I survive that moment and all the others? Not just survive, but get past it so that one day I could reach a time when things finally worked? I chalk it up to three things:
Support. There’s the aforementioned husband, and my family. It’s possible to do these things alone, but when you have support it gets a whole lot more possible. I honestly don’t know if I could have done this on my own. I feel like writing is who I am, who I’m meant to be. But boy am I grateful for the other people who thought so, too. If you don’t have that support built into your life, it’s possible to get it in writers groups, from good friends, even clergy. Seek out supportive figures. You deserve them, and you need them.
Fantasy. When things were bleak, I propelled myself into a different scenario. I pictured it just as if it were happening. Sometimes it seemed realer than what was happening. It may be easier to do this if you’re a writer of fiction, but it’s doable for anyone. Jot some notes, draw a (doesn’t matter if it’s bad) picture, or watch a movie about someone who experiences a triumph. See it as if it’s happening to you. Before you go to sleep, tell yourself it is happening. One day, it might be.
Commitment. Just before Jim Carrey got his first big part, he wrote himself a check for ten million dollars. Taylor Swift’s parents moved the whole family to Nashville when she was just a junior high school girl who liked to write songs. And Olympic athletes often follow their coaches to far-flung locations. Me, I stopped working outside the home. Whatever you want to do, find a way to commit to it, either symbolically or with a tangible action. Make a statement—to yourself and the world—that this is what you intend to do. Because when you do, as Will Smith says, “The universe is going to get out of your way.”
The most despairing moment I ever faced along this journey wasn’t any book that didn’t sell, or agent that dumped me, or rejection that came in. It was the times I decided to give up. I couldn’t do this anymore. It was never going to happen. Those are powerful words—game-killing words. Don’t let yourself say them. Don’t sink that low.
You can tolerate a lot of badness so long as you just stay in the game. Unless you quit trying, you haven’t failed—you just haven’t succeeded yet.
Another thing Will Smith says? “There is no reason to have a Plan B because it distracts from Plan A.” In the words of Van Morrison, Born to sing.
Let’s all get out there and make some music.
Jenny Milchman is a suspense novelist from New Jersey whose short stories have appeared in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, Adirondack Mysteries II, and in an e-published volume called Lunch Reads. Jenny is the founder of Take Your Child to a Bookstore Day, and the chair of International Thriller Writers’ Debut Authors Program. Her first novel, Cover of Snow, is published by Ballantine.
Synopsis of “Cover of Snow”
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Waking up one wintry morning in her old farmhouse nestled in the Adirondack Mountains of New York, Nora Hamilton instantly knows that something is wrong. When her fog of sleep clears, she finds her world is suddenly, irretrievably shattered: Her husband, Brendan, has committed suicide.
The first few hours following Nora’s devastating discovery pass for her in a blur of numbness and disbelief. Then, a disturbing awareness slowly settles in: Brendan left no note and gave no indication that he was contemplating taking his own life. Why would a rock-solid police officer with unwavering affection for his wife, job, and quaint hometown suddenly choose to end it all? Having spent a lifetime avoiding hard truths, Nora must now start facing them.
Unraveling her late husband’s final days, Nora searches for answers—but meets with bewildering resistance from Brendan’s best friend and partner, his fellow police officers, and his brittle mother. It quickly becomes clear to Nora that she is asking questions no one wants to answer. For beneath the soft cover of snow lies a powerful conspiracy that will stop at nothing to keep its presence unknown … and its darkest secrets hidden.
Excerpt…
Chapter One
My husband wasn’t in bed with me when I woke up that January morning. The mid-winter sky was bruised purple and yellow outside the window. I shut bleary eyes against light that glared and pounded.
A second later I realized my toes weren’t burrowing into the hollows behind Brendan’s knees, that when I flung out my arm it didn’t meet his wiry chest, the stony muscles gone slack with sleep. I slid my hand toward the night table, fingers scrabbling around for our alarm clock.
Seven-thirty.
It was late. As if drugged, my brain was making sense of things only after a dull delay. But it was a full hour past the time I always woke up. We always woke up. Brendan slept a cop’s sleep, perpetually ready to take action, and I had been an early riser all my thirty-five years.
Bits of things began to take shape in my mind.
The morning light, which entered so stridently through the window.
Brendan not in bed with me. He must’ve gotten up already. I hadn’t even felt him move.
But Brendan had been working late all week; I hadn’t yet found out why. My husband had good reason to sleep in. And if he had risen on time, why didn’t he wake me?
I felt a squeezing in my belly. Brendan knew I had an eight o’clock meeting with a new client this morning, the owner of a lovely but ramshackle old saltbox in need of repair. My husband took my burgeoning business as seriously as I did. He would never let me miss a meeting.
On the other hand, Brendan would know that if I slept late, then I must be worn out. Maybe getting Phoenix off the ground had taken more out of me than I realized. Brendan probably figured he’d give me a few extra minutes, and the morning just got away from him.
He must be somewhere in his normal routine now, toweling off, or fixing coffee.
Except I didn’t hear the shower dripping. Or smell the telltale, welcome scent of my morning fix.
I pushed myself out of bed with hands that felt stiff and clumsy, as if I were wearing mittens. What was wrong with me? I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror and noticed puddles of lavender under my eyes. It was like I hadn’t slept a wink, instead of an extra hour.
“Brendan? Honey? You up?”
My words shattered the air, and I realized how very still our old farmhouse was this morning.
Padding toward the bathroom, one explanation for the weight in my muscles, not to mention my stuporous sleep, occurred to me.
Brendan and I had made love last night.
It had been one of the good times; me lying back afterward, hollow, cored out, the way I got when Brendan was able to focus completely on me, on us, instead of moving so fiercely that he seemed to be riding off to some distant place in the past. We’d even lain awake for a while in the waning moments before sleep, fingers intertwined, Brendan studying me in a way that I felt more than saw in the dark.
“Honey? Last night tired me out, I guess. Not that it wasn’t worth it.”
I felt a smile tease the corners of my mouth, and pushed open the bathroom door, expecting a billow of steam. When only brittle air emerged, I felt that grabbing in my gut again. Cold tile bit my bare feet.
“Brendan?”
My husband never started the day without a shower, claiming that a night’s sleep made him ache. But there was no residue of moisture filming the mirror, nor fragrance of soap in the air. I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my shoulders for warmth, and trotted toward the stairs, calling out his name.
No answer.
Could he have gone to the station early? Left me sleeping while my new client waited at his dilapidated house?
“Honey! Are you home?” My voice sounded uncertain.
No answer. And then I heard the chug of our coffeepot.
Relief flowed through me, thick and creamy as soup. Until that moment, I hadn’t let myself acknowledge that I was scared. I wasn’t an over-reactor by nature usually.
I headed downstairs, feet more sure now, but with that wobbly, airless feeling in the knees that comes as fear departs.
The kitchen was empty when I entered, the coffee a dark, widening stain in the pot. It continued to sputter and spit while I stood there.
There was no mug out, waiting for its cold jolt of milk. No light was turned on against the weak morning sunshine. Nobody had been in the icy kitchen yet today. This machine had been programmed last night, one of the chores accomplished as Brendan and I passed back and forth in the tight space, stepping around each other to clean up after dinner.
That thing in my belly took hold, and this time it didn’t let go. I didn’t call out again.
The sedated feeling was disappearing now, cobwebs tearing apart, and my thinking suddenly cleared. I brushed past the deep farm sink, a tall, painted cabinet.
With icy hands, I opened the door to the back stairs, whose walls I was presently laboring over to make perfect for Brendan. Maybe, just maybe, he’d skipped his shower and called in late to work in order to spend time in his hideaway upstairs.
The servants’ stairs were steep and narrow, with a sudden turn and wells worn deep in each step. I climbed the first two slowly, bypassing a few tools and a can of stripper, then twisted my body around the corner. I took in the faded wallpaper I’d only just reached after months of careful scraping.
Perhaps I didn’t have enough momentum, but I slipped, solidly whacking both knees as I went down. Crouching there, gritting my teeth against the smarting pain, I looked up toward the top of the flight.
Brendan was above me, suspended from a thick hank of rope.
The rope was knotted around a stained-glass globe, which hung in the cracked ceiling plaster.
Brendan’s neck tilted slightly, the angle odd. His handsome face looked like it was bathed entirely in red wine.
Suddenly a small cyclone of powder spilled down, and I heard a splitting sound. There was a rip, a tear, the noise of two worlds cracking apart, and then a deafening series of thuds.
The light fixture completed its plummet, and broke with a tinkling sprinkle of glass. A tangle of ice-cold limbs and body parts slugged me, heavy as lead blankets.
And I screamed, and screamed, and screamed, until the warble my voice had been before became no more than a gasping strain for air.
Author Biography
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Jenny Milchman is a suspense writer from New Jersey. Her debut novel, COVER OF SNOW, is forthcoming from Ballantine in January 2013 and is available for pre-order now. Her short story The Closet was published in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine in November 2012. Another short story, The Very Old Man, has been an Amazon bestseller, and the short work Black Sun on Tupper Lake appears in the anthology ADIRONDACK MYSTERIES II.
Jenny is the Chair of the International Thriller Writers’ Debut Authors Program. She is also the founder of Take Your Child to a Bookstore Day, which was celebrated last year in all 50 states and four foreign countries by 350-and-growing bookstores.
Jenny hosts the Made It Moments forum on her blog, which has featured more than 250 international bestsellers, Edgar winners and independent authors. She co-hosts the literary series Writing Matters, which attracts guests coast-to-coast and has received national media attention, and loves to teach and speak about writing and publishing for New York Writers Workshop, Arts By The People, and WomenWhoWrite.
Contact Jenny!
Website: JennyMilchman.com
TakeYourChildtoaBookstore.org
Twitter @JennyMilchman Facebook Cover of Snow Goodreads Jenny Milchman
January 4, 2013
Guest Post With Author, R.J. Tolson
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Choosing actors that would have play my characters in my book was fairly difficult as I don’t watch a lot of shows or movies and so I don’t have a large variety of actors to choose from that I know. But I have still found a few, based on personality like Jackie Chan for the elderly but powerful village chief that matched well. For some like Channing Tatum and Arnold Schwarzenegger, their images closely matched how I pictured characters like the two large men Endragio and Adamus.
· Alexander Johan Hjalmar Skarsgård (True Blood) – Chief Luis (Young)
· Jackie Chan – Karlir
· Arnold schwarzenegger– Adamus
· Danielle Radcliffe - Blane
· Johnny Depp – Chief of Dentro
· Jennifer Lawrence – Autumn
· Ed Sheeran – Jordan of Red
· Justin Bieber - Kolt
· Louis Tomlinson- Leon
· Lewis Watson – Zephyr
· Channing Tatum - Endragio
· Meryl Streep - Delphi
· Jeremy Sumpter - Sora
· Leonardo Dicaprio - The Outsider
· Taylor Lautner - Nicholas
· Russel Brand - Hovan
· Jet-Li - Kuchi
· Tom Felton - Fonos
· Bill Murray - Vice Chief Greer
· Emma Watson - Katjul
R.J. Tolson
Author Biography
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R.J. Tolson is a 19-year-old CEO, model, musician and debut novelist.
He founded the website building and computer programming company RJTIO and its divisions, RJTINC, Forever Trust Charity and RL Infinity International. He also serves as president of both the metaphysical philosophy group Sages of Essence and literary organization Living Writers.
The accomplished teen can speak 6 languages, including English, Spanish, Chinese, Greek, Korean and Japanese. Currently studying in his second year in college, as only a freshman R.J. taught a metaphysics college level online course once a week.
A jack-of-all-trades, R.J. played varsity soccer in high school and received his black belt in nin-jit-su and senjutsu. And with his love of music and experience as a lyricist, composer and musician, R.J. releases in summer 2013 his debut album Human, comprised of house, acoustic, pop and hip/hop.
Writing is perhaps R.J.’s greatest passion. In 2012 he launched the first novel of his young adult Chaos Chronicles series, Zephyr the West Wind. Forthcoming titles from the new author include a Zephyrsequel Hugh The Southern Flame and romance novel Blood Red Love.
R.J. was born to a dentist father and lawyer/professional tennis player mother. He lived throughout Virginia, Connecticut and Washington, D.C. before heading to college on the west coast.
Synopsis
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17 years ago, in the island village of Dentro, lived a large and powerful demon. With just a howl, mountains were obliterated. With the help of an outsider, the chief of Dentro destroyed the demon and sealed its dark power into three powerful ancient weapons: a spear, shield, and a sword. After leaving the unwelcoming village, the man who helped destroy the demon took the sword in an effort to keep it away from the village. Months later, a villager bore the son of the outsider, breaking one of the sacred village laws in doing so.
Born into a village filled with people who hated him, Zephyr grew up without knowing why they did. With no friends, and eventually no family with the passing of his mother, Zephyr was forced to survive by himself as an outcast. Zephyr’s only wish being to make his mother proud and force the village to recognize him while surviving in a world filled with demons, paranormal abilities, love, hate and undiscovered lands.
CONNECT
Website: RJTolson.com
Twitter @RJTolson Facebook Author RJ Tolson Goodreads RJ Tolson
Choosing actors that would have play my characters in my book was fairly difficult as I don’t watch a lot of shows or movies and so I don’t have a large variety of actors to choose from that I know. But I have still found a few, based on personality like Jackie Chan for the elderly but powerful village chief that matched well. For some like Channing Tatum and Arnold Schwarzenegger, their images closely matched how I pictured characters like the two large men Endragio and Adamus.
· Alexander Johan Hjalmar Skarsgård (True Blood) – Chief Luis (Young)
· Jackie Chan – Karlir
· Arnold schwarzenegger– Adamus
· Danielle Radcliffe - Blane
· Johnny Depp – Chief of Dentro
· Jennifer Lawrence – Autumn
· Ed Sheeran – Jordan of Red
· Justin Bieber - Kolt
· Louis Tomlinson- Leon
· Lewis Watson – Zephyr
· Channing Tatum - Endragio
· Meryl Streep - Delphi
· Jeremy Sumpter - Sora
· Leonardo Dicaprio - The Outsider
· Taylor Lautner - Nicholas
· Russel Brand - Hovan
· Jet-Li - Kuchi
· Tom Felton - Fonos
· Bill Murray - Vice Chief Greer
· Emma Watson - Katjul
R.J. Tolson
Author Biography
[image error]
R.J. Tolson is a 19-year-old CEO, model, musician and debut novelist.
He founded the website building and computer programming company RJTIO and its divisions, RJTINC, Forever Trust Charity and RL Infinity International. He also serves as president of both the metaphysical philosophy group Sages of Essence and literary organization Living Writers.
The accomplished teen can speak 6 languages, including English, Spanish, Chinese, Greek, Korean and Japanese. Currently studying in his second year in college, as only a freshman R.J. taught a metaphysics college level online course once a week.
A jack-of-all-trades, R.J. played varsity soccer in high school and received his black belt in nin-jit-su and senjutsu. And with his love of music and experience as a lyricist, composer and musician, R.J. releases in summer 2013 his debut album Human, comprised of house, acoustic, pop and hip/hop.
Writing is perhaps R.J.’s greatest passion. In 2012 he launched the first novel of his young adult Chaos Chronicles series, Zephyr the West Wind. Forthcoming titles from the new author include a Zephyrsequel Hugh The Southern Flame and romance novel Blood Red Love.
R.J. was born to a dentist father and lawyer/professional tennis player mother. He lived throughout Virginia, Connecticut and Washington, D.C. before heading to college on the west coast.
Synopsis
[image error]
17 years ago, in the island village of Dentro, lived a large and powerful demon. With just a howl, mountains were obliterated. With the help of an outsider, the chief of Dentro destroyed the demon and sealed its dark power into three powerful ancient weapons: a spear, shield, and a sword. After leaving the unwelcoming village, the man who helped destroy the demon took the sword in an effort to keep it away from the village. Months later, a villager bore the son of the outsider, breaking one of the sacred village laws in doing so.
Born into a village filled with people who hated him, Zephyr grew up without knowing why they did. With no friends, and eventually no family with the passing of his mother, Zephyr was forced to survive by himself as an outcast. Zephyr’s only wish being to make his mother proud and force the village to recognize him while surviving in a world filled with demons, paranormal abilities, love, hate and undiscovered lands.
CONNECT
Website: RJTolson.com
Twitter @RJTolson Facebook Author RJ Tolson Goodreads RJ Tolson
Guest Post with Author, Shannon Greenland
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I got my start in romantic suspense novels for adults. It was my critique partner that said, “Shannon, you have a young voice. Ever thought of writing for teens?” My response: “Hm….”
I mulled it over for weeks, jotted down some ideas, and just wasn’t feeling the love. Then one Saturday at 6 in the morning I was sitting in a lawn chair with my friend, Britta, greeting our morning yard sale shoppers. We were drinking coffee, trying to wake up, and I said, “Brit, I think I want to write for teens but I have no idea what I want to write.”
She said, “What’s your favorite show?” I said, “Alias.” She said, “Why don’t you write about teen spies.” And that is the exact second the proverbial light bulb went off. I raced inside and got a tablet and a pencil. We sat for hours, energy clicking, pretty much ignoring the yard sale shoppers, and we roughly plotted out the entire Specialists series.
The whole thing is crazy when I look back on it. What was even crazier is that I wrote Model Spy, the first book in the series, in about two weeks. I couldn’t walk away from the laptop. I was SO excited. And any writer will tell you, when that magical energy hits, you definitely take advantage of it.
AWARD-WINNING YA SPY SERIES COMES TO E-READERS
Penguin Publishing brings back Shannon Greenland’s The Specialists, featuring girl tech genius GiGi, after successful paperback release.
NEW YORK, NY – October 2012 – Shannon Greenland’s award-winning teen spy series The Specialists is brought back to the spotlight after six years in paperback. The 5-book series releases on Kindle, Nook and all e-readers this winter from Penguin Publishing.
Inspired from the hit television show Alias, Greenland’s book series begins with Model Spy (originally debuted in 2007) when 16-year-old Kelly James is caught uncovering top-secret information for her irresistibly cute and nice friend David. Rather than serve a jail sentence, she accepts the option to change her identity and enlist in a government spy agency that trains teen agents. Instantly, Kelly Spree, a.k.a. girl genius GiGi, is born and sent on her first mission as an undercover model with a partner she’s surprised to find as an agent himself.
The Specialists e-book release comes on the heels of Penguin’s publication of Greenland’s stand-alone novel The Summer My Life Began, which was chosen as a Hot YA Read by the She Knows Book Lounge, and devoured by librarians who called it “terrific” (School Library Journal) and “a breeze to get through; light and entertaining” (Texas librarian Jen Bigheart).
Greenland’s impressive nine-book career – she also previously released three romantic suspense novels – has earned her awards from National Booksellers, Romantic Times, National Readers Choice, American Library Association, Daphne du Maurier and many more prestigious literary organizations.
“Brilliant,” Kidz World; “Greenland makes you ride along, and I love it!” Echelon Press; “Hours of good reading,” Scribes World; “The imagery used to twine the characters lives is amazing,” Writers Unlimited; “Sure to surprise,” The Readers Studio; “Witty and very adventurous. Readers will not be disappointed,” Teens Read – are just a snippet of the high-praised comments Greenland has received for her writing.
Readers can grab a copy of any of Greenland’s novels wherever books are sold or downloaded. The Specialists Series is also available in audio book format.
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Shannon Greenland
Author Biography
Shannon Greenland dreaded reading and writing as a kid. Ironic, as she’s now a successful award-winning author. Her 5-book series for young adults, The Specialists, as well as her other novels, received such honors as National Booksellers Best, Daphne du Maurier and Romantic Times recognition, National Readers Choice, CAPA nominee, Aspen Gold Readers Choice Award, Holt Medallion and the Popular Paperback award from the American Library Association.
Penguin Publishing launched Greenland’s latest novel The Summer My Life Began in May 2012, and brings her entire spy series to e-form this winter.
When not writing, Shannon’s eager for adventure outside of a book’s pages. Hiking, rafting, climbing, caving, swimming, snorkeling, sailing, surfing, mountain biking, spelunking, canoeing, power lifting, running, camping, para sailing . . . she’s done it all.
Originally from Tennessee, the world traveler divides her time between Florida and Virginia where she mentors, tutors, and teaches math and gives authors talks at area schools.
CONNECT WITH SHANNON
Website: ShannonGreenland.com
Twitter @ShannonGreenlan
Facebook Shannon Greenland
GoodReads Shannon Greenland
THE SERIES
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I got my start in romantic suspense novels for adults. It was my critique partner that said, “Shannon, you have a young voice. Ever thought of writing for teens?” My response: “Hm….”
I mulled it over for weeks, jotted down some ideas, and just wasn’t feeling the love. Then one Saturday at 6 in the morning I was sitting in a lawn chair with my friend, Britta, greeting our morning yard sale shoppers. We were drinking coffee, trying to wake up, and I said, “Brit, I think I want to write for teens but I have no idea what I want to write.”
She said, “What’s your favorite show?” I said, “Alias.” She said, “Why don’t you write about teen spies.” And that is the exact second the proverbial light bulb went off. I raced inside and got a tablet and a pencil. We sat for hours, energy clicking, pretty much ignoring the yard sale shoppers, and we roughly plotted out the entire Specialists series.
The whole thing is crazy when I look back on it. What was even crazier is that I wrote Model Spy, the first book in the series, in about two weeks. I couldn’t walk away from the laptop. I was SO excited. And any writer will tell you, when that magical energy hits, you definitely take advantage of it.
AWARD-WINNING YA SPY SERIES COMES TO E-READERS
Penguin Publishing brings back Shannon Greenland’s The Specialists, featuring girl tech genius GiGi, after successful paperback release.
NEW YORK, NY – October 2012 – Shannon Greenland’s award-winning teen spy series The Specialists is brought back to the spotlight after six years in paperback. The 5-book series releases on Kindle, Nook and all e-readers this winter from Penguin Publishing.
Inspired from the hit television show Alias, Greenland’s book series begins with Model Spy (originally debuted in 2007) when 16-year-old Kelly James is caught uncovering top-secret information for her irresistibly cute and nice friend David. Rather than serve a jail sentence, she accepts the option to change her identity and enlist in a government spy agency that trains teen agents. Instantly, Kelly Spree, a.k.a. girl genius GiGi, is born and sent on her first mission as an undercover model with a partner she’s surprised to find as an agent himself.
The Specialists e-book release comes on the heels of Penguin’s publication of Greenland’s stand-alone novel The Summer My Life Began, which was chosen as a Hot YA Read by the She Knows Book Lounge, and devoured by librarians who called it “terrific” (School Library Journal) and “a breeze to get through; light and entertaining” (Texas librarian Jen Bigheart).
Greenland’s impressive nine-book career – she also previously released three romantic suspense novels – has earned her awards from National Booksellers, Romantic Times, National Readers Choice, American Library Association, Daphne du Maurier and many more prestigious literary organizations.
“Brilliant,” Kidz World; “Greenland makes you ride along, and I love it!” Echelon Press; “Hours of good reading,” Scribes World; “The imagery used to twine the characters lives is amazing,” Writers Unlimited; “Sure to surprise,” The Readers Studio; “Witty and very adventurous. Readers will not be disappointed,” Teens Read – are just a snippet of the high-praised comments Greenland has received for her writing.
Readers can grab a copy of any of Greenland’s novels wherever books are sold or downloaded. The Specialists Series is also available in audio book format.
[image error]
Shannon Greenland
Author Biography
Shannon Greenland dreaded reading and writing as a kid. Ironic, as she’s now a successful award-winning author. Her 5-book series for young adults, The Specialists, as well as her other novels, received such honors as National Booksellers Best, Daphne du Maurier and Romantic Times recognition, National Readers Choice, CAPA nominee, Aspen Gold Readers Choice Award, Holt Medallion and the Popular Paperback award from the American Library Association.
Penguin Publishing launched Greenland’s latest novel The Summer My Life Began in May 2012, and brings her entire spy series to e-form this winter.
When not writing, Shannon’s eager for adventure outside of a book’s pages. Hiking, rafting, climbing, caving, swimming, snorkeling, sailing, surfing, mountain biking, spelunking, canoeing, power lifting, running, camping, para sailing . . . she’s done it all.
Originally from Tennessee, the world traveler divides her time between Florida and Virginia where she mentors, tutors, and teaches math and gives authors talks at area schools.
CONNECT WITH SHANNON
Website: ShannonGreenland.com
Twitter @ShannonGreenlan
Facebook Shannon Greenland
GoodReads Shannon Greenland
THE SERIES
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January 3, 2013
Guest Post with Fantasy Author, John Dahlgren
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Well, I’ve always wanted to be a fiction/fantasy writer for as long as I can remember. Growing up in Sweden with the Nordic sagas and mythologies, not to mention the beautiful and untouched landscapes and ancient forests, I was inspired quite early to write fantasy fiction. My favorite books as a kid (except Hans Christian Andersen) were The Wind in the Willows and Treasure Island as one perhaps can detect a whiff of in the Sagaria books. Scandinavia has had a very long tradition of fairy-tales. Even today, some people (especially out in the country) still put out food on their doorstep for the gnomes, trolls and fairies as to keep them happy and not coming up with mischief. Thankfully, these superstitions are harmless. As a psychologist, I’ve always found fantasy to be the most illimitable form of writing (that is not to say that there are no rules for fantasy. It has to make sense as I learned at Oxford while studying creative and fiction writing).
For me, the experience of being a writer is a pure joy. It’s a great feeling to shut out the everyday world and being transported to a place where almost everything is possible and meet some of the most fascinating characters one can think of. They’re only limited by your imagination. The trilogy Sagariais quite heavy influenced by Scandinavian mythologies and is perhaps more “Saga-like”. The Tides of Avarice- A Sagaria Legend is more violent and contains some colorful language. After all, when you’re writing a pirate fantasy book, it’s hard to not have a high-seas adventure without swordfights and you can’t have a swordfight without someone being slit from stem to stern. Greed, treasures, rum and tavern brawls are also useful ingredients.
However, both books are intended for the YA and adult audience. I’ve tried to make my characters as fresh and three-dimensional as possible and avoiding clichés as much as possible. That’s one reason I chose to write the books almost entirely in an anthropomorphic way (but in an adult manner). Although the Sagaria books are for teens, I would like to talk about fantasy for children as I think it’s an important topic. The most important element in fairy tales, to me, is the moral choice presented to the hero. The child learns that choices have consequences, and the child can choose what kind of person she wants to be. Only by “going out into the world” does the hero learn, and acquire happiness. The fairy tale is future-oriented and guides the child, so that instead of escaping into a world of unreality, she is given tools to help her develop character and courage to face what the world presents to her. Often the hero is lost, alone, frightened. These are feelings a child identifies with. Yet, her hero is guided and given help along the way because of his determination and courage. In this way, fairy tales work their own kind of magic, for in reading them, the child feels understood and enriched. I think all fantasy books are inspired in one way or the other from what we experience in real life e.g. newspapers, television, history books, personal experiences and so on (at least for me). So reality creates fantasy but then fantasy creates reality (think Jules Verne’s fiction book written in 1865 about traveling to the moon and in 1969 we all know what happened).
So, why has fantasy fiction struck a chord with modern readers? It is partly because fantasy has deep roots in the stories of the past (folklore, myth etc.). It’s also because fantasy is filled with ideals of courage, loyalty, compassion and honor. These are values which sometimes seem lost in a world racked by war, treachery and opportunism. Fantasy opens up a world where everything may be possible. Mainly though, it’s because fantasy fiction holds out the hope of happiness. Fantasy doesn’t deny the existence of sorrow and pain as so many people seem to think. The possibility of failure is absolutely necessary for the sense of the pure joy one feels when victory is finally and with difficulty won. Like a candle-flame, fantasy cast a shadow at the same time that it illuminates. Yet it’s the illumination that’s important. Fairy-tales or fantasy offers the hope that a happy ending is possible and we all need to believe this. Fantasy denies ultimate despair. It holds out the hope for a better world, and signposts the way.
These have been my guidelines when writing fantasy.
John Dahlgren
Author Biography
Born in Sweden, John Dahlgren grew up close to the vast and untamed landscapes of Scandinavia and was influenced from an early age by the Nordic sagas, fairy tales and mythologies. This enchanting environment triggered his imagination and later inspired him to become a fiction writer.
He went on to study creative and fiction writing at Oxford University and competed in the school’s short story contests each year.
As a trained psychologist and member of the Swiss Psychologist Federation, Dahlgren began writing nonfiction articles for numerous scientific journals and a Swedish magazine. But his passion was fiction, and so he debuted as a novelist in 2011 with the young adult story The Tides of Avarice, a finalist for best Fiction/Fantasy in the International Book Awards and Silver Medal winner inForeWord’s Book of the Year Awards. He released months later a second YA fantasy novel, Sagaria, and is currently engaged in several book projects for both younger readers and adults.
Dahlgren lives now in Neuchâtel, Switzerland with his wife and two children, where he’s worked for the past twelve years as a marketing director at an international pharmaceutical company.
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Three worlds are in immediate danger!
And unfortunately one of them is yours.
After the mysterious kidnapping of his eccentric grandfather, Sagandran Sacks sets out on a rescue mission. Although he suspects things might get strange, he doesn’t expect his search to bring him to a parallel world!
After traveling, or rather falling, into the magical realm of Sagaria (a world that looks like it’s straight out of a fantasy novel), young Sagandran finds himself on a breathtaking rollercoaster ride through every fantasy adventure he could possibly wish for (and some he would wish he hadn’t).
Expect the unexpected at every moment. Chivalrous frogs, bungling wizards, blabbering rodents, captivating trolls, annoying gnomes, magical theme parks, chatting furniture, mad jello puddings, madder ghosts and beautiful but merciless evil-doers are just a few of the encounters that await you! Not to mention, the most powerful and ruthless sorcerer ever who desperately wants your world! Oh, and by the way, he wants your soul too…
Breathless suspense, helter-skelter adventure and riotous good humor – all the trademarks of a John Dahlgren story are here in abundance.
[image error]
BLIMEY!
It’s something all pirates are taught when they’re small, but too many of them forget:
Never get on the wrong side of a librarian.
Especially if the librarian is a lemming!
Sylvester used to read about cannibals, impenetrable jungles, lethal carnivores, mysterious fortune-tellers, voodoo magic, cutthroat pirates, shipwrecks, mutinies, spaceships and much else in his books, but he never thought he’d encounter them for real.
Can Sylvester save his sweetheart, Viola, her frighteningly gritty mom and the other friends he’s acquired along the way? Can he find his long-lost father, rescue his hometown of Foxglove from the murderous rule of its ruthless mayor, and discover true happiness?
Oh, did we mention that Sylvester has mistakenly received the most sought after treasure map ever? This means he also has to escape from the cruelest and craziest pirate captain who ever sailed the seas of Sagaria – the horrifying Cap’n Terrigan Rustbane who will stop at nothing to get his map back! A map which leads to a treasure beyond the wildest dreams of avarice...
It’s kind of a tall order.
But then Sylvester is a librarian. And a lemming.
CONNECT WITH JOHN DAHLGREN
Website: http://www.johndahlgren.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/dahlgrenbooks
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Ti...
Well, I’ve always wanted to be a fiction/fantasy writer for as long as I can remember. Growing up in Sweden with the Nordic sagas and mythologies, not to mention the beautiful and untouched landscapes and ancient forests, I was inspired quite early to write fantasy fiction. My favorite books as a kid (except Hans Christian Andersen) were The Wind in the Willows and Treasure Island as one perhaps can detect a whiff of in the Sagaria books. Scandinavia has had a very long tradition of fairy-tales. Even today, some people (especially out in the country) still put out food on their doorstep for the gnomes, trolls and fairies as to keep them happy and not coming up with mischief. Thankfully, these superstitions are harmless. As a psychologist, I’ve always found fantasy to be the most illimitable form of writing (that is not to say that there are no rules for fantasy. It has to make sense as I learned at Oxford while studying creative and fiction writing).
For me, the experience of being a writer is a pure joy. It’s a great feeling to shut out the everyday world and being transported to a place where almost everything is possible and meet some of the most fascinating characters one can think of. They’re only limited by your imagination. The trilogy Sagariais quite heavy influenced by Scandinavian mythologies and is perhaps more “Saga-like”. The Tides of Avarice- A Sagaria Legend is more violent and contains some colorful language. After all, when you’re writing a pirate fantasy book, it’s hard to not have a high-seas adventure without swordfights and you can’t have a swordfight without someone being slit from stem to stern. Greed, treasures, rum and tavern brawls are also useful ingredients.
However, both books are intended for the YA and adult audience. I’ve tried to make my characters as fresh and three-dimensional as possible and avoiding clichés as much as possible. That’s one reason I chose to write the books almost entirely in an anthropomorphic way (but in an adult manner). Although the Sagaria books are for teens, I would like to talk about fantasy for children as I think it’s an important topic. The most important element in fairy tales, to me, is the moral choice presented to the hero. The child learns that choices have consequences, and the child can choose what kind of person she wants to be. Only by “going out into the world” does the hero learn, and acquire happiness. The fairy tale is future-oriented and guides the child, so that instead of escaping into a world of unreality, she is given tools to help her develop character and courage to face what the world presents to her. Often the hero is lost, alone, frightened. These are feelings a child identifies with. Yet, her hero is guided and given help along the way because of his determination and courage. In this way, fairy tales work their own kind of magic, for in reading them, the child feels understood and enriched. I think all fantasy books are inspired in one way or the other from what we experience in real life e.g. newspapers, television, history books, personal experiences and so on (at least for me). So reality creates fantasy but then fantasy creates reality (think Jules Verne’s fiction book written in 1865 about traveling to the moon and in 1969 we all know what happened).
So, why has fantasy fiction struck a chord with modern readers? It is partly because fantasy has deep roots in the stories of the past (folklore, myth etc.). It’s also because fantasy is filled with ideals of courage, loyalty, compassion and honor. These are values which sometimes seem lost in a world racked by war, treachery and opportunism. Fantasy opens up a world where everything may be possible. Mainly though, it’s because fantasy fiction holds out the hope of happiness. Fantasy doesn’t deny the existence of sorrow and pain as so many people seem to think. The possibility of failure is absolutely necessary for the sense of the pure joy one feels when victory is finally and with difficulty won. Like a candle-flame, fantasy cast a shadow at the same time that it illuminates. Yet it’s the illumination that’s important. Fairy-tales or fantasy offers the hope that a happy ending is possible and we all need to believe this. Fantasy denies ultimate despair. It holds out the hope for a better world, and signposts the way.
These have been my guidelines when writing fantasy.
John Dahlgren
Author Biography
Born in Sweden, John Dahlgren grew up close to the vast and untamed landscapes of Scandinavia and was influenced from an early age by the Nordic sagas, fairy tales and mythologies. This enchanting environment triggered his imagination and later inspired him to become a fiction writer.
He went on to study creative and fiction writing at Oxford University and competed in the school’s short story contests each year.
As a trained psychologist and member of the Swiss Psychologist Federation, Dahlgren began writing nonfiction articles for numerous scientific journals and a Swedish magazine. But his passion was fiction, and so he debuted as a novelist in 2011 with the young adult story The Tides of Avarice, a finalist for best Fiction/Fantasy in the International Book Awards and Silver Medal winner inForeWord’s Book of the Year Awards. He released months later a second YA fantasy novel, Sagaria, and is currently engaged in several book projects for both younger readers and adults.
Dahlgren lives now in Neuchâtel, Switzerland with his wife and two children, where he’s worked for the past twelve years as a marketing director at an international pharmaceutical company.
[image error]
Three worlds are in immediate danger!
And unfortunately one of them is yours.
After the mysterious kidnapping of his eccentric grandfather, Sagandran Sacks sets out on a rescue mission. Although he suspects things might get strange, he doesn’t expect his search to bring him to a parallel world!
After traveling, or rather falling, into the magical realm of Sagaria (a world that looks like it’s straight out of a fantasy novel), young Sagandran finds himself on a breathtaking rollercoaster ride through every fantasy adventure he could possibly wish for (and some he would wish he hadn’t).
Expect the unexpected at every moment. Chivalrous frogs, bungling wizards, blabbering rodents, captivating trolls, annoying gnomes, magical theme parks, chatting furniture, mad jello puddings, madder ghosts and beautiful but merciless evil-doers are just a few of the encounters that await you! Not to mention, the most powerful and ruthless sorcerer ever who desperately wants your world! Oh, and by the way, he wants your soul too…
Breathless suspense, helter-skelter adventure and riotous good humor – all the trademarks of a John Dahlgren story are here in abundance.
[image error]
BLIMEY!
It’s something all pirates are taught when they’re small, but too many of them forget:
Never get on the wrong side of a librarian.
Especially if the librarian is a lemming!
Sylvester used to read about cannibals, impenetrable jungles, lethal carnivores, mysterious fortune-tellers, voodoo magic, cutthroat pirates, shipwrecks, mutinies, spaceships and much else in his books, but he never thought he’d encounter them for real.
Can Sylvester save his sweetheart, Viola, her frighteningly gritty mom and the other friends he’s acquired along the way? Can he find his long-lost father, rescue his hometown of Foxglove from the murderous rule of its ruthless mayor, and discover true happiness?
Oh, did we mention that Sylvester has mistakenly received the most sought after treasure map ever? This means he also has to escape from the cruelest and craziest pirate captain who ever sailed the seas of Sagaria – the horrifying Cap’n Terrigan Rustbane who will stop at nothing to get his map back! A map which leads to a treasure beyond the wildest dreams of avarice...
It’s kind of a tall order.
But then Sylvester is a librarian. And a lemming.
CONNECT WITH JOHN DAHLGREN
Website: http://www.johndahlgren.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/dahlgrenbooks
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Ti...
December 1, 2012
Guest Post with Author, John Catenacci "Dianna's Way"
The End of Something
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“Honey, why don’t we make love anymore?”
We are in bed. Dianna is reading a book about healing cancer, while
I’m thumbing through a bird hunting magazine. Dianna lays her book
on the end table and rolls over toward me. I lay down the magazine, too.
She has my undivided attention now.
“I think we make love every day in some way,” I say.
“You know what I mean.”
“Sex.”
“Yes.”
I let out a big sigh. We have not had sex since the transplant. I have
been thinking about this for quite a while, and nothing ever comes up
making sense to me.
“Don’t you find me desirable anymore? Do you still love me?”
“Do you actually have to ask me that?” I’m looking her right in the
eye. “I love you more now than I ever have.”
“Well?”
“I don’t have a way to explain it. It’s not that I don’t find you attractive
or desirable. It’s just with everything that has happened to us, to you, I
just…I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s because I’ve lost my breasts, isn’t it. You never touch them
anymore.”
“Well, honey, we’ve discussed that already. You’ve admitted you
don’t have any feeling there anymore. Why would I touch them? I don’t
fondle doorknobs, either. But, anyway, your breasts have nothing to do
with it.”
“Then, what?”
“The only way I can put it is, I love you very much, and more and
more with each passing year. But expressing my love for you in a sexual
way feels…I don’t know…just feels inappropriate somehow.”
“Like you will hurt me or something?”
“I guess so. No matter how much you love someone, if the person
you love is wounded and bleeding, you don’t try to have sex with them.
Feels… just doesn’t feel…right. You protect them. You care for them, not
have sex with them. Something like that.”
“I’m not a cripple, you know. I’m not a piece of glass. I won’t break.”
“I know that, honey.”
“I’m a woman with womanly needs. I still desire you sexually. I would
love to have sex with you like a normal human being.” She slides her arm
under my arm. “I feel rejected. That hurts.”
“I realize that. I feel terrible about it. Don’t you think I haven’t thought
about how much you’ve lost? You have lost your dream of having a child.
Now your menstrual cycles have ended, reminding you that all you are
going to get from now on is hot flashes instead of the child you so dearly
wanted. You’ve lost your breasts, a part of you, you were always so proud
of…, and you have lost your hair twelve times. You…”
“Three times.”
I laugh. Then, so does she, a little.
“What I’m trying to say, maybe not very well, is I realize all these
losses assail your femininity, of what it means to be a woman, …and…
not having sex with your partner is just another thing piled on top of all
the rest. It’s the last thing you need to have happen in your life, right now.
I know I can’t feel what you feel exactly…, but I do understand these are
losses you deal with every day. That’s why it hurts me so much to be stuck
like this, this way.”
“Then, I don’t understand why you would want to deprive me of this,
too.”
My eyes are getting wet, and my heart is thick in my throat.
“Believe me, if I could do anything about it, I would. I just can’t. Men
can’t fake it, you know.”
“I don’t want you to fake it.”
I put my arms around her and pull her close to me. I can’t stop the
tears now.
“And so I don’t. I’m not faking my love for you, either. I would do
anything I know how to do for you. I do what I can. I’m so sorry, honey.”
She starts to cry, softly, quietly, burying her head into my neck.
“So am I,” she whispers.
We fall into silence. There doesn’t seem to be anything else to say. I
keep my arms around her, and she keeps her arm over me.
We fall asleep that way.
The Beginning of Something Else
The next morning, I get up, leaving Dianna still asleep, and go into the
kitchen to make coffee. My back is facing the hallway to the bedroom.
Suddenly I feel her arms around me as she lays her head sideways against
my back.
“I know what love is, John.”
“You do?” I ask without turning toward her.
“Yes.”
“Look at me,” she says.
I turn around and look into her eyes. They look wet, but she’s
smiling. “Love is the way you are with me,” she pauses, then, in a more
perky tone of voice, “And the way I am with you, too.”
Now I can’t help it. I fall apart. She wraps her arms tight around me
and I bury my head into her neck.
“It’s going to be okay,” she says.
“It is okay,” she says, then adds, “More than okay.”
After a minute, she steps back and looks at me with a smirk on her
face. “Do you ever desire other women?”
I think about that minefield, but decide to go ahead anyway. “Of course.
Once in awhile, I do. Some women are sexually attractive and, …and don’t
look wounded to me, I guess. Must be about a billion of ’em out there.”
She smiles, gives me a little kiss on the cheek, then walks over to
the dining room window and looks out over the lake. Finally, she says
quietly, without looking at me, “Maybe one day, honey, you’ll see we are
all wounded.”
I stop pouring water into the coffee pot in midstream, about to enlist
my skills in mental masturbation, when she darts away to a different
flower.
“Oh, honey, I think it’s going to be a beautiful day today. In fact, I’m
sure it is.” She comes across the room and peeks over the bar. “Oh. Are
you making coffee for me?”
“Everything is for you,” I say with a smile.
John Catenacci's Web Site: (at this time, not yet live)
http://www.diannasway.com/
John Catenacci's Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/John.....
Tribute Books Blog Tours Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Trib.....
Dianna's Way blog tour site:
http://diannasway.blogspot.com/
Dianna's Way Book Summary:
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Dianna is a young woman in her late 20’s when she meets John, a man in his late 40's. They fall in love and marry. A central feature of their life plan is to have one child to fulfill her fervent lifelong dream of being a mother.
Not to be.
Not long into their marriage, Dianna discovers she has an aggressive form of breast cancer.
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Hand in hand, they begin a 17 year spiritual journey into the nature of love and healing. Along the way, she discovers and fulfills her life purpose and, in the process, takes John by the hand, gently helping him to reveal, then fulfill, his own.
In the beginning, John, being much older, thought he would be her teacher but gradually discovers in the most important dimensions of life quite the opposite is true. With Dianna’s guidance, he ultimately discovers we are all teachers, we are all students and we are all one.
Theirs is a story of courage, determination and a lightness of being, as they descend into the deepest valleys of crushing disappointment, pain and suffering only to rise again to ever higher peaks of appreciation, gratitude and love. Throughout it all, their journey is laced with light and laughter.
Even today, after her passing, they continue their relationship, piercing the Illusion that veils this reality, exploring its limits while continuing a spiritual journey without end.
John Catenacci's Bio:
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After spending his youth doing cement construction work while getting his education, John Catenacci earned a Bachelor’s degree in chemical engineering. He went on to work on the Apollo 11 Project as a member of the USAF in California, then as an engineer for the Dow Chemical Company in Midland, MI, doing both process research as well as designing and building chemical plants.
Mid-career he became interested in group dynamics, leading to another 20-year career in team building that took him across the U.S., Canada, Europe and Saudi Arabia.
With a sprinkling of published short stories and articles in small magazines along the way, his abiding passion has always been writing, something now coming to fruition in this, his first book.
Price: $16.95
Format: paperback
Pages: 365
Publisher: Spiritdogtalking
Release: December 14, 2012
Buy links coming soon, not live at this time.
Q&A With John Catenacci
Please tell us about your current release.
I will use the back cover copy as it works pretty well on its own.
John Catenacci is enthralled from the start by the beauty, radiance, and mystery of the much younger woman he meets at a party. Dianna “is in Technicolor and everyone else is in black and white.” Expecting to be the teacher, not the student, John is humbled by the gradual discovery that the opposite is true, in their marriage and in life. The author is profoundly awed by Dianna’s courage, determination, and lightness of being that remains entirely undiminished in the face of what becomes a seventeen-year battle with an aggressive form of breast cancer. John accompanies Dianna each step of the way, and is increasingly amazed by the undeniable healing affect she has on others. Theirs is a shared spiritual journey into the nature of love and transformation. Even after her passing, their relationship pierces the illusion veiling this reality.
Can you tell us about the journey that led you to write your book?
At some point in our life together, I began to notice Dianna was living her life in a genuinely powerful, almost mysterious (to me) way and suggested to her that I write her story. She was as delighted as any child running down the stairs on Christmas morning. But, as her health deteriorated, I became focused on care giving and put the writing aside. After she died, I was engulfed in grief and for a couple of years I just couldn’t climb out of it. One day, I happened upon a book by Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way, which I credit with guiding me back into the game.
The book is in five parts. The first four recount our life together with the fifth devoted to my personal spiritual journey of coming to terms with her leaving, my long view of who she was and what I learned from her. The first four parts flowed like water once I began to write but I struggled mightily with the last part. Yet it is this last part that weaves together the whole of her life, her message, in a way very satisfying to me.
Can you tell us about the story behind your book cover?
Well, originally the cover was going to be centered on the photo of Dianna that is now on the back cover. I love this photo of her – it is quintessential Dianna in an image.
However, my editor, Marly Cornell, convinced me this was going to be an ineffective cover and, after accidentally seeing the photo of Dianna and me from the rear taken by a dear friend/professional photographer, Giovanni Sanitate, she instantly said, “This is the one. Use this one.” Well, it has taken most of my life but I have finally learned to listen and follow advice when the advice comes from someone I respect. So, now, everyone gets to see my bald head instead of Dianna. More mystery, more intriguing, Marly said. Probably because anyone looking at it would wonder what this young woman is doing with this old man.
Anyway, unwilling to let it go completely, I pushed Dianna’s photo to the back cover because I wanted it to be seen and seen in color.
What book on the market does yours compare to? How is your book different?
Everyone is unique. No one could have written this book but me and no one else has existed nor ever will exist who is like Dianna. So her story and how I have written it is like no other book anyone has ever read. Of course, this does not make it a good book but simply a unique one. I have read quite a few memoirs, many involving illness, care giving – and some of them were really good. What I think makes this book special is what made Dianna special, what made our relationship special – so much laughter, optimism, ways of constantly making lemonade when we needed it, and, finally, the deeply spiritual orientation to the book’s message – good or bad, there is nothing fluffy about where Dianna goes in her life nor in the way I have chosen to examine her life …. and the very meaning of life itself.
What would you say is your most interesting writing quirk?
I like to write in sentence fragments and the entire book is a sort of a mosaic – there are chapters that are conventionally chronological because they had to be but other parts of the book are like bursts of light shining on an amazing woman so the reader can enjoy her in the way I – and all who knew her – enjoyed and were inspired by her. I am so happy with how the entire tapestry came together into a whole. I think Dianna is too.
Of course I could go into grammar and punctuation, which I thought I knew. And my love of ellipses and my aversion to the word “that” and my unconscious tendency to start sentences with “So.”
So, my early readers and editor ripped me to pieces on those “quirks.”
Open your book to a random page and tell us what’s happening.
In my reality, nothing in life is random — or accidental. When I was about to write this response, I happened to look out the window and saw three – three – hummingbirds dancing around a honeysuckle – have never seen this before – like Dianna saying “talk about the hummingbird chapter.”
While I was writing the book, it occurred to me to use a hummingbird as one metaphor for how Dianna lived her life – flitting from person to person, embracing their love whole heartedly while impregnating each one with a simple grace, unflagging humor and ineffable love in return, all in one magical spontaneous exchange.
The look of triumph on her face, her excitement and joy, when the first hummingbird showed up in our yard was unforgettable. She had worked so hard for several years, planting for them, and finally there it was, this little Ruby Throated blur. In that moment I saw, once again, her determination, patience, faith, appreciation and gratitude all in one tiny vignette during one day of our lives.
Do you plan any subsequent books?
An already almost fully formed book is in my mind now. Better writers than I have said don’t talk about a book idea or the energy for writing it will bleed away, leaving it stillborn.
Tell us what you’re reading at the moment and what you think of it.
The Five Secrets You Must Discover Before You Die by John Izzo and The Five Regrets of the Dying by Bronnie Ware because I am old enough now where I should pay attention to these things — probably before tomorrow — and A Broken Sausage Grinder by Hank Thomas, a friend of mine and The Almost Archer Sisters by Lisa Gabriele, a relative and friend of mine. I often read several books at a time, switching back and forth depending on my mood. All are interesting in different ways and for different reasons.
There is so very much talent in the world isn’t there?
[image error]
“Honey, why don’t we make love anymore?”
We are in bed. Dianna is reading a book about healing cancer, while
I’m thumbing through a bird hunting magazine. Dianna lays her book
on the end table and rolls over toward me. I lay down the magazine, too.
She has my undivided attention now.
“I think we make love every day in some way,” I say.
“You know what I mean.”
“Sex.”
“Yes.”
I let out a big sigh. We have not had sex since the transplant. I have
been thinking about this for quite a while, and nothing ever comes up
making sense to me.
“Don’t you find me desirable anymore? Do you still love me?”
“Do you actually have to ask me that?” I’m looking her right in the
eye. “I love you more now than I ever have.”
“Well?”
“I don’t have a way to explain it. It’s not that I don’t find you attractive
or desirable. It’s just with everything that has happened to us, to you, I
just…I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s because I’ve lost my breasts, isn’t it. You never touch them
anymore.”
“Well, honey, we’ve discussed that already. You’ve admitted you
don’t have any feeling there anymore. Why would I touch them? I don’t
fondle doorknobs, either. But, anyway, your breasts have nothing to do
with it.”
“Then, what?”
“The only way I can put it is, I love you very much, and more and
more with each passing year. But expressing my love for you in a sexual
way feels…I don’t know…just feels inappropriate somehow.”
“Like you will hurt me or something?”
“I guess so. No matter how much you love someone, if the person
you love is wounded and bleeding, you don’t try to have sex with them.
Feels… just doesn’t feel…right. You protect them. You care for them, not
have sex with them. Something like that.”
“I’m not a cripple, you know. I’m not a piece of glass. I won’t break.”
“I know that, honey.”
“I’m a woman with womanly needs. I still desire you sexually. I would
love to have sex with you like a normal human being.” She slides her arm
under my arm. “I feel rejected. That hurts.”
“I realize that. I feel terrible about it. Don’t you think I haven’t thought
about how much you’ve lost? You have lost your dream of having a child.
Now your menstrual cycles have ended, reminding you that all you are
going to get from now on is hot flashes instead of the child you so dearly
wanted. You’ve lost your breasts, a part of you, you were always so proud
of…, and you have lost your hair twelve times. You…”
“Three times.”
I laugh. Then, so does she, a little.
“What I’m trying to say, maybe not very well, is I realize all these
losses assail your femininity, of what it means to be a woman, …and…
not having sex with your partner is just another thing piled on top of all
the rest. It’s the last thing you need to have happen in your life, right now.
I know I can’t feel what you feel exactly…, but I do understand these are
losses you deal with every day. That’s why it hurts me so much to be stuck
like this, this way.”
“Then, I don’t understand why you would want to deprive me of this,
too.”
My eyes are getting wet, and my heart is thick in my throat.
“Believe me, if I could do anything about it, I would. I just can’t. Men
can’t fake it, you know.”
“I don’t want you to fake it.”
I put my arms around her and pull her close to me. I can’t stop the
tears now.
“And so I don’t. I’m not faking my love for you, either. I would do
anything I know how to do for you. I do what I can. I’m so sorry, honey.”
She starts to cry, softly, quietly, burying her head into my neck.
“So am I,” she whispers.
We fall into silence. There doesn’t seem to be anything else to say. I
keep my arms around her, and she keeps her arm over me.
We fall asleep that way.
The Beginning of Something Else
The next morning, I get up, leaving Dianna still asleep, and go into the
kitchen to make coffee. My back is facing the hallway to the bedroom.
Suddenly I feel her arms around me as she lays her head sideways against
my back.
“I know what love is, John.”
“You do?” I ask without turning toward her.
“Yes.”
“Look at me,” she says.
I turn around and look into her eyes. They look wet, but she’s
smiling. “Love is the way you are with me,” she pauses, then, in a more
perky tone of voice, “And the way I am with you, too.”
Now I can’t help it. I fall apart. She wraps her arms tight around me
and I bury my head into her neck.
“It’s going to be okay,” she says.
“It is okay,” she says, then adds, “More than okay.”
After a minute, she steps back and looks at me with a smirk on her
face. “Do you ever desire other women?”
I think about that minefield, but decide to go ahead anyway. “Of course.
Once in awhile, I do. Some women are sexually attractive and, …and don’t
look wounded to me, I guess. Must be about a billion of ’em out there.”
She smiles, gives me a little kiss on the cheek, then walks over to
the dining room window and looks out over the lake. Finally, she says
quietly, without looking at me, “Maybe one day, honey, you’ll see we are
all wounded.”
I stop pouring water into the coffee pot in midstream, about to enlist
my skills in mental masturbation, when she darts away to a different
flower.
“Oh, honey, I think it’s going to be a beautiful day today. In fact, I’m
sure it is.” She comes across the room and peeks over the bar. “Oh. Are
you making coffee for me?”
“Everything is for you,” I say with a smile.
John Catenacci's Web Site: (at this time, not yet live)
http://www.diannasway.com/
John Catenacci's Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/John.....
Tribute Books Blog Tours Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Trib.....
Dianna's Way blog tour site:
http://diannasway.blogspot.com/
Dianna's Way Book Summary:
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Dianna is a young woman in her late 20’s when she meets John, a man in his late 40's. They fall in love and marry. A central feature of their life plan is to have one child to fulfill her fervent lifelong dream of being a mother.
Not to be.
Not long into their marriage, Dianna discovers she has an aggressive form of breast cancer.
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Hand in hand, they begin a 17 year spiritual journey into the nature of love and healing. Along the way, she discovers and fulfills her life purpose and, in the process, takes John by the hand, gently helping him to reveal, then fulfill, his own.
In the beginning, John, being much older, thought he would be her teacher but gradually discovers in the most important dimensions of life quite the opposite is true. With Dianna’s guidance, he ultimately discovers we are all teachers, we are all students and we are all one.
Theirs is a story of courage, determination and a lightness of being, as they descend into the deepest valleys of crushing disappointment, pain and suffering only to rise again to ever higher peaks of appreciation, gratitude and love. Throughout it all, their journey is laced with light and laughter.
Even today, after her passing, they continue their relationship, piercing the Illusion that veils this reality, exploring its limits while continuing a spiritual journey without end.
John Catenacci's Bio:
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After spending his youth doing cement construction work while getting his education, John Catenacci earned a Bachelor’s degree in chemical engineering. He went on to work on the Apollo 11 Project as a member of the USAF in California, then as an engineer for the Dow Chemical Company in Midland, MI, doing both process research as well as designing and building chemical plants.
Mid-career he became interested in group dynamics, leading to another 20-year career in team building that took him across the U.S., Canada, Europe and Saudi Arabia.
With a sprinkling of published short stories and articles in small magazines along the way, his abiding passion has always been writing, something now coming to fruition in this, his first book.
Price: $16.95
Format: paperback
Pages: 365
Publisher: Spiritdogtalking
Release: December 14, 2012
Buy links coming soon, not live at this time.
Q&A With John Catenacci
Please tell us about your current release.
I will use the back cover copy as it works pretty well on its own.
John Catenacci is enthralled from the start by the beauty, radiance, and mystery of the much younger woman he meets at a party. Dianna “is in Technicolor and everyone else is in black and white.” Expecting to be the teacher, not the student, John is humbled by the gradual discovery that the opposite is true, in their marriage and in life. The author is profoundly awed by Dianna’s courage, determination, and lightness of being that remains entirely undiminished in the face of what becomes a seventeen-year battle with an aggressive form of breast cancer. John accompanies Dianna each step of the way, and is increasingly amazed by the undeniable healing affect she has on others. Theirs is a shared spiritual journey into the nature of love and transformation. Even after her passing, their relationship pierces the illusion veiling this reality.
Can you tell us about the journey that led you to write your book?
At some point in our life together, I began to notice Dianna was living her life in a genuinely powerful, almost mysterious (to me) way and suggested to her that I write her story. She was as delighted as any child running down the stairs on Christmas morning. But, as her health deteriorated, I became focused on care giving and put the writing aside. After she died, I was engulfed in grief and for a couple of years I just couldn’t climb out of it. One day, I happened upon a book by Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way, which I credit with guiding me back into the game.
The book is in five parts. The first four recount our life together with the fifth devoted to my personal spiritual journey of coming to terms with her leaving, my long view of who she was and what I learned from her. The first four parts flowed like water once I began to write but I struggled mightily with the last part. Yet it is this last part that weaves together the whole of her life, her message, in a way very satisfying to me.
Can you tell us about the story behind your book cover?
Well, originally the cover was going to be centered on the photo of Dianna that is now on the back cover. I love this photo of her – it is quintessential Dianna in an image.
However, my editor, Marly Cornell, convinced me this was going to be an ineffective cover and, after accidentally seeing the photo of Dianna and me from the rear taken by a dear friend/professional photographer, Giovanni Sanitate, she instantly said, “This is the one. Use this one.” Well, it has taken most of my life but I have finally learned to listen and follow advice when the advice comes from someone I respect. So, now, everyone gets to see my bald head instead of Dianna. More mystery, more intriguing, Marly said. Probably because anyone looking at it would wonder what this young woman is doing with this old man.
Anyway, unwilling to let it go completely, I pushed Dianna’s photo to the back cover because I wanted it to be seen and seen in color.
What book on the market does yours compare to? How is your book different?
Everyone is unique. No one could have written this book but me and no one else has existed nor ever will exist who is like Dianna. So her story and how I have written it is like no other book anyone has ever read. Of course, this does not make it a good book but simply a unique one. I have read quite a few memoirs, many involving illness, care giving – and some of them were really good. What I think makes this book special is what made Dianna special, what made our relationship special – so much laughter, optimism, ways of constantly making lemonade when we needed it, and, finally, the deeply spiritual orientation to the book’s message – good or bad, there is nothing fluffy about where Dianna goes in her life nor in the way I have chosen to examine her life …. and the very meaning of life itself.
What would you say is your most interesting writing quirk?
I like to write in sentence fragments and the entire book is a sort of a mosaic – there are chapters that are conventionally chronological because they had to be but other parts of the book are like bursts of light shining on an amazing woman so the reader can enjoy her in the way I – and all who knew her – enjoyed and were inspired by her. I am so happy with how the entire tapestry came together into a whole. I think Dianna is too.
Of course I could go into grammar and punctuation, which I thought I knew. And my love of ellipses and my aversion to the word “that” and my unconscious tendency to start sentences with “So.”
So, my early readers and editor ripped me to pieces on those “quirks.”
Open your book to a random page and tell us what’s happening.
In my reality, nothing in life is random — or accidental. When I was about to write this response, I happened to look out the window and saw three – three – hummingbirds dancing around a honeysuckle – have never seen this before – like Dianna saying “talk about the hummingbird chapter.”
While I was writing the book, it occurred to me to use a hummingbird as one metaphor for how Dianna lived her life – flitting from person to person, embracing their love whole heartedly while impregnating each one with a simple grace, unflagging humor and ineffable love in return, all in one magical spontaneous exchange.
The look of triumph on her face, her excitement and joy, when the first hummingbird showed up in our yard was unforgettable. She had worked so hard for several years, planting for them, and finally there it was, this little Ruby Throated blur. In that moment I saw, once again, her determination, patience, faith, appreciation and gratitude all in one tiny vignette during one day of our lives.
Do you plan any subsequent books?
An already almost fully formed book is in my mind now. Better writers than I have said don’t talk about a book idea or the energy for writing it will bleed away, leaving it stillborn.
Tell us what you’re reading at the moment and what you think of it.
The Five Secrets You Must Discover Before You Die by John Izzo and The Five Regrets of the Dying by Bronnie Ware because I am old enough now where I should pay attention to these things — probably before tomorrow — and A Broken Sausage Grinder by Hank Thomas, a friend of mine and The Almost Archer Sisters by Lisa Gabriele, a relative and friend of mine. I often read several books at a time, switching back and forth depending on my mood. All are interesting in different ways and for different reasons.
There is so very much talent in the world isn’t there?
