Casey Dawes's Blog, page 4

California Sunset: Later-in-Life Contemporary Romance

In 2011, my husband and I walked away from the life we’d known in California. Our house, savings, and jobs were gone, wiped out by the recession and less-than-stellar decisions. We headed to Montana, a place where I’d known peace in my twenties. With us came several work-in-progress manuscripts and a dream.

With the support and help of a small group of women writers (including Danica Winters and Angela Breidenbach) as well as the luck of timing, my debut book was accepted at the now-defunct Crimson Romance. What a roller coaster ride it has been since!

California Sunset drew from some of my own later-in-life experiences. I was going through a lot of trauma when that book’s genesis occurred. Annie, the heroine in the novel, is raising her teenage son by herself, her alcoholic ex doing the best he can to be around. In the upheaval of economic stress, she is faced with a choice: uproot her child from California and move to New Jersey … or lose her job. Adding to this mix is a new and attractive man in town–a bookstore-owning cowboy from Montana. To find out what happens, you will need to read the book">read the book. It is also available at most non-Amazon online bookstores. The print copy can be ordered by your local brick and mortar bookstore or wherever you buy your books.

Books need to fall into the hands of readers at the right time to inspire them. Are you ready to read about women who face their difficulties head on and emerge to a happier, more fulfilled life? Sign up for my newsletter list and get a free copy of a book of inspiring short stories. The next newsletter will also contain information on how to get a free copy of California Sunset.

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Kyna’s Offering: Free Books to Inspire

Sometimes you simply need to escape. Kyna knows this. The world can be a bit crazy at times, even if its your own personal world. The milk is sour, the bills total more than the income, and the much-needed rain falls from the sky, beating your just-bloomed tulips into the ground.

Those are the moments Kyna looks for. She offers inspiration in form of the written word. An opportunity to slip into someone else’s attire and live their life, if only for ten-minute snippets at a time. If you are having one of those moments right now, or want to add to your rainy-day book fund, take a look at the free titles offered below.

And take a moment to practice the gift of inspiration: let others know about these books, write a kind review, or bestow a smile on a stranger.

With over 50 books to choose from, you are sure to find something … or a few somethings … you will like. So bring your e-reader into your bedroom, close the door, and escape the particular rain that’s falling on your lovely day.

Click here to access your free books: https://books.bookfunnel.com/generalfiction4/lo3y0x8jn7

Offer ends May, 31, 2021.

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The Myth of Kyna

Creative Commons License: John Christian Fjellestad photographer

Kyna was born in an ordinary time to normal dysfunctional parents. From her father she learned to never let anyone too close lest they see your imperfections. From her mother she learned to bear unbearable cruelty in silence.

When she was older, she married imperfect men, while trying to hide her own flaws. Her parents’ lessons were passed down to her children, with a few more of her own. She did as she had been taught, never questioning, always surrounded with a vague unhappiness.

Her sorrow drove her deep into the wild, near the rushing of a mountain river. There she bundled all the lessons she had learned, as well as the lies she’d told herself, wrapping them in the branches of the brush and trees. She placed them in a cleft of a mountain, not to destroy them, but with the knowledge she didn’t have to carry them anymore.

Then she began to notice the teachings of the wild: the caution of the rabbit, the keen eye of the falcon, the many sides of a flower. She learned that most things aren’t black or white, but shades of gray, and that listening to the world around her made the colors brighter and the sounds more vibrant.

When her hair was long and gray, she went into the world to sing her own song, in hopes others would hear it and take heart.

Creative Commons License, Farhad Sadykov photographer.

Her song is found in the books she writes, books that can take a person who aches beneath the stress of daily life and transport them. They are an escape to others’ lives. And when the reader is finished, they might be inspired to pluck up their own courage and begin again.

 

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Clash of Worlds in Fiction and Non-Fiction, Part Two

Kiva, Abó Nat. Mnmt. NM

Fiction can be plodding and dull without tension, and that is provided by conflict. In my current WIP, the two main characters come from different worlds, have different belief systems, and different goals. Yet they are attracted to each other and like each other as people. This often occurs in real life as well.

Kaiden is the youngest in the Beck family. Ever since he was little, he’s been fascinated by rocks and geology which led naturally to his career in energy. His plan is to stay in the oil fields until he’s ready to retire. Gary (Geraldine) is from a Texas energy family with both parents career professionals. She’s gotten degrees in the energy field to learn as much as she can about both fossil fuels and renewables to position herself for a policy job. He believes change will evolve over time. She is an evangelist for the new way of doing things.

To see how that conflict plays out, you’ll need to read Starting for Home, available in August 2021.

Kiva, Pecos NHP

Back to the conflict between the Pueblo people, Franciscans, and Spanish. I’m currently reading The Pueblo Revolt: The Secret Rebellion That Drove the Spaniards Out of the Southwest which sheds light on the conflict, albeit from a slightly biased viewpoint. It turns out the Franciscans were determined to wipe out any trace of the native religion, building their churches on top of kivas as a clear statement. Although the Abo kiva was left, they may have used it as a garbage dump … adding insult to injury. After the Pueblo Revolt in 1680, the natives built a new kiva at Pecos–right next to the church they’d destroyed. (My husband emerging from the kiva. I’m highly claustrophobic … so no.)

The thing I like about writing books is that conflict is eventually resolved. Not so much in real life. Even today, the pain of history simmers between the descendants of the ancient participants of war and intolerance.

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Clash of Worlds in Fiction and Non-Fiction, Part One

Statues at the entrance of the Blackfeet Nation

When I arrived on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation in northwest Montana to teach junior high in the fall of 1976, I had no idea what I was getting into. Nor did I understand how the next three years would impact my life and perspective. I did learn a lot about the conflict between natives and Europeans, but not nearly enough about how it played out in modern life, or how little I understood about myself in relationship to the native culture. At the time, cultural revival was stirring, and the first coloring book using the Blackfeet language was produced.

Fast forward about 45 years. Over the past month or so, we’ve been in the thick of historic places of conflict between southwestern natives and whites, each other, and the fringes of the Civil War. I listened to a podcast from Run for Something where a Tohono O’odham Nation woman talked about being elected as the Pima County (Tucson area) Recorder. In the process of her story, she told how her grandmother, a native American who could not speak English, only voted for the first time in 1975. (You can listen to this and other RFS podcasts by clicking here.)

Fort Bowie, AZ

On my quest for National Park/Monument stamps for my Passport book, my husband and I have visited many sites that included areas of conflict. For example, Fort Bowie was set up to monitor the Apache Pass and keep travelers safe from the Chiricahua Apache. No one thought to keep the natives safe from the US Army.

A back road took us to the Abó ruins of the church built to convert the Towa-speaking Pueblo natives to Catholicism. This was accomplished by two friars who convinced (?) the natives their way was better. Curiously, there is a kiva ( a circular chamber used for Pueblo religious rites in the center of the convento (convent). This curiosity recurs in the Pecos Pueblo church.

Kiva, Abó Nat. Mnmt. NM

To be continued …

 

An Amazing Country – White Sands National Park

Our travel trailer journeys have now led us to New Mexico. I haven’t spent much time in the state. My memories are of spending a half day in Albuquerque waiting for repairs on my 1970-something golden yellow Datsun pickup, circling the plaza in Santa Fe, and a tour of Carlsbad Cavern. My husband has other memories. His air force tour of duty in the early 1970s began in Clovis. It thankfully ended without a visit to Vietnam.

Neither of us had ever been to White Sands National Park. When we went we were amazed by the expanse of white, and the hardiness of the plants that grow through feet of gypsum sand. This sand is different from what you find on the beach, which is made of silica. One of the most outstanding plants was the Soaptree Yucca. It’s trunk grows up through the sand, the roots firmly planted in the water table close to the surface.

Native Americans used the plant like the way the northern tribes used the bison: not a piece was wasted. In fact, you can still make yucca soap yourself, according to Mother Earth News: https://www.motherearthnews.com/natural-health/yucca-soap-yucca-shampoo-zmaz81mjzraw. Quite a contrast to our plastic-driven, land-filling habits, including the plastic sleds they sold at the visitor center.

We watched a few people try to head down the dunes. It was slow going indeed! People found other uses for them, but I wonder where they will ultimately wind up. I have memories of using cardboard boxes to slide down grass hills, particularly the great big ones that surrounded appliances. Do you have those memories?

As we wander, it gives my brain a little bit of a rest so I can go back to writing.

I invite you to subscribe to my newsletter and get more stories surrounding my writing life. I also let you know about giveaways that are available to my readers. Just click the link at the top, enter your email, and get started on your first read.

Beginning of Book 6

Monday I began book 6 of the Rocky Mountain Front series. So far there is no title. Maybe I should run a contest … hmmm.

Anyway, my inspiration for the opening was an agile woman I saw climbing what to me looked like the sheer face of a cliff. I mean what did she have to hold onto?

“There. Gary chalked her hand, gave the signal, and shifted her weight to accommodate the move. Bringing her knee almost to her shoulder, she placed her foot on the ledge she’d already spotted, and propelled herself up to the handhold. Another twenty feet and she’d reach her goal, a flat-topped ridge with views encompassing miles of Utah geography, including the famed Zion National Park.”

Rock climbing is something that tantalizes. I think, “Wow, that looks awesome.” Then I look at my body and add, “for someone else.” Writing allows me to live vicariously through my characters. It’s a great feeling to be reaching along with Gary for the next handhold without having to leave my RV. The closest I’ve ever been is a ten-foot “rock climbing wall” inside one of the rooms of the Outside Inn in Nevada City, CA.

There are months to go before the release of this book. In the meantime, did you know you can get a copy of book 5 today?  Click here to learn about Crossroads: The Path Home.

California Romance – Mothers and Young Adults

The relationship between mothers and daughters has its ups and downs as any woman will tell you. Throughout their relationship, they may be close, drifting apart, coming back together, or at complete odds. The five contemporary romance stories that make up my California Romance Series are, at their heart, stories of mothers and daughters.

The first two books, as well as the novella, California Sunshine, are told from the mother’s perspective. As a special offer, I’ve bundled them together in California Romance: The Mothers. This bundle is only available on Amazon at the current time, but if you have Amazon Prime, you can read them as part of your subscription. Click here to read California Romance: The Mothers and settle down in your chair to enjoy the warmth of the California Central Coast.

The last three books view the world from the standpoint of a young adult. All three of our heroines face problems that some young women need to overcome: economic hardship, unplanned pregnancy, and fractured relationships with their parents. They need to draw on their own strength, as well as the lessons their mothers taught them, to find the path forward. Click here to read California Romance: Young Adults.

Enjoy the stories! And stay safe!

Western Wind: Random Thoughts

Creative commons license; photo by altiemae

Wind drove women in the sod houses on the plains mad. Even mad enough to take their own lives.

“OOOOk-lahoma, where the wind comes sweepin’ down the plain,” per Oscar Hammerstein II.

Pilots learn to take off in the wind in Great Falls, MT, the windiest city in America according to a former aircraft controller I know. If they master that wind, they can handle any.

The wind buffets our small RV south of Tucson, where the scream of jets from either the U.S. Navy or the Air National Guard bombard the skies … and our ears.

“Just outside the park’s eastern boundary, in Browning, Montana in 1916, the temperature dropped from 46 degrees F to –56 degrees in 24 hours—that’s 100 degrees in a day!” per the National Park Service. I taught in Browning for three years. The wind was a constant presence, a tailwind going to work and an obstacle getting home.

Once, going home, I saw several railroad cars littering the grass where the wind had pushed them off the track.

Wind wind up and send it on its way, and it becomes a targeted, if random, destructive force as great as any other natural disaster.

There is no reckoning without wind in the West. According to Paint Your Wagon, “They call the wind Mariah.”

And yet, wind is made up of air, the very essence of life. “And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.”

Wind blows seeds from one part of the globe to another and is responsible for much of the changes of weather we experience. We’re learning to harness it to provide the energy we all depend upon. Great wind farms crest the high points of the western landscape, capturing nature’s gift, but having their own destructive nature.

Nothing, it appears, is totally without a price. Nor are many things wholly good or evil.

Crossroads: A Path Home

View of Potomac River from Mt. Vernon

There is a certain irony in the title of my forthcoming book: Crossroads: A Path Home. Like many, I watched in horror as our Capital Building, the seat of legislature (somewhat dysfunctional legislature lately, it is true), be infiltrated by a mob. It broke my heart.

When I was in junior high school, my mother made a commitment to our Girl Scout Troop to take us to Washington D.C. if we raised the money. There were spaghetti dinners, bazaars (oh, those troll clothes!), and bake sales. But before we even started on the effort, my mother told the parents of two girls that they could stay in the troop, but she was not taking them to DC. They simply didn’t know how to behave.

I didn’t realize how much courage that took. Especially since the US seems far too tolerant of bad behavior these days.

The trip was amazing. Tours of the Kennedy White House, the Capital Building, the FBI. Standing in awe in front of the giant statue of Abraham Lincoln. The first time I ever sat on the back porch of Mt. Vernon. Five whirlwind days. And my mom directed it all.

Unfortunately, she died when I was 21. I miss her frequently and wonder what she would make of all this. I’m sure she would agree that we are at a crossroads. There are choices to make about who we really want to be as a nation, and what truths we need to face to get there.

I can only pray for all of us to have courage, honesty, and determination, the same traits my mother used to get us to Washington D.C., to achieve the best results we can.