Janet Van Gorden's Blog, page 6

My first book in print!

I am so thrilled to be holding my very first book in it’s print edition.  This is both a humbling and gratifying experience.  I couldn’t be more proud!

Joining the conversation

Meaningful conversation is an art.  Blog posts are meaningful conversations in a written form.  Therefore blog writing is an art, right?  This is the part where I stress myself out.  For anyone who read my last post (and remembers it), I discussed the pressure that I put on myself, and the resulting writer’s block that descends on me, every time I think about formulating a worthwhile post.  I’ve finally figured out why.

As I just pointed out, creating a successful blog isn’t just about writing, it’s about having a conversation.  Therein lies my problem.  I am an introvert.  Tried and true.  Starting conversations doesn’t come naturally to me.  Strangely enough, I am married to one of the most conversationally, animated extroverts you could ever meet. (I envision my husband smirking at my description of him.  At least he will be when he reads this…because he will read it.  He’s good like that! But I digress.)  Unlike me, who has been labeled in the past as (gasp) ‘snobby’ for my lack of banter, my husband could strike up a conversation with any stranger and have that person remember him ten years from now.

The point of my observation is this…friendly, genuine conversation is memorable and attracts people.  It is one of the basic qualities of being successful and respected, maybe even highly admired.  All of those attributes I wish for every time I sit down to write a blog post…before I end up turning off the computer without ever writing a word.

As an author I love the freeing, creative experience of my stories, withdrawing into my own little world for hours at a time, heck even days at a time if I’m on a roll.  It appeals to my personal nature.  I find the writing process fairly easy.  But blog writing is different.  At least I perceive it that way.  It takes finesse.  A sense of knowing the current trend of people’s interests and sharing it in a noteworthy way.  A gift some people possess naturally, but I am determined to learn.  I share my life with the best teacher after all.  It’s a funny thing.  You’d think that after being together for almost 27 years (we starting dating at the age of 14!) that he would have eventually converted me over to the ‘social’ side.  I’d like to believe there’s still hope for me yet.

As I wrap up this post I have to say I am feeling amazingly empowered and encouraged about my future as a blog writer.  I look forward to sharing my journey with new readers and followers, developing my writing and the conversational side of myself that’s been hidden for…well, let’s just say too many years to count.  I am excited to finally be the one starting the conversations and maybe, just maybe, I’ll never shut up!

 

Riding the waves

Sitting at my computer this morning, with my cup of coffee by my side, I found myself staring bleary eyed at the empty box of my blog post.  The blinking cursor was taunting me as I realized that I was at a loss for topic ideas to start a conversation.  It’s been a while since I’ve updated my site, and I’ve been feeling the pressure of writing a post, preferably something insightful or informative.  As I thought about ideas that might be of interest, I slowly began to feel like I was back in high school again, struggling to write an essay for a test I never studied.

Fortunately for me, that had it’s advantages. It gave me a place to start my brainstorming process.  As my thoughts randomly spiraled from being in school to summer vacation, it reminded me of the ocean.  Then through a series of additional aimless thoughts (which I’ll spare you from reading) I finally landed on an idea for my post.

Here goes…I equate my life as an independent author to the ocean and I am the novice surfer.  The constant ebb and flow of the ever changing waves is the perfect analogy to the experiences that bombard me every day as I tackle writing, editing, marketing, managing and fast paced social media.  Some days the waves are gentle and kind, some days they crash around me completely blindsiding me with an overwhelming dunk into the cold waters of reality.  But much like that novice surfer who is daunted but not defeated, when I’m knocked down,  I climb back up on my board and face the turbulent surf head on.  As I stand tall and brace myself, there is always the hope that I ‘ll catch that elusive perfect wave and my persistence will pay off.  Recently I have discovered a plateau of success that I plan to ride for as long as it lasts.

Finally in keeping with the theme of my oceanic post, I have to admit that my mind is always churning like the sea with random thoughts and book possibilities. Even as I am writing this blog update, I am thinking that a story containing sand, sun, romance and a hunky alpha male surfer sounds utterly intriguing…

Even on a rainy day you can find a ray of sunshine

Lately I’ve been feeling a little down about all the small frustrations in my life.  This morning I woke up to find that I had infected the rest of my family with my blues.  My normally even tempered husband wasn’t smiling, my teenage son was set to face a day he was sure was going to be terrible and I…well I was right along with them.  Until, something nice happened.

As is the usual morning ritual for me, my phone dings incessantly making me crazy with the constant stream of junk emails that I receive spamming me with all the latest “stuff” I randomly sign up for.  So this morning when I checked my phone for the tenth time I found a surprise.  I received an email alerting me to a Facebook post of mine that someone had shared.  The day before I had posted some info about the relaunch of my second book Take Me Home which had sluggish sales.  A friend of mine, out of the blue, shared my post with others and also encouraged her FB friends to check out my book.  I was so incredibly touched by the unexpected gesture, that for the first time in the last several days, I actually smiled.

Kindness is such a wonderful thing and can really turn someone’s day around.  If you do nothing else today, on this rainy day, try to find one simple act of thoughtfulness to do for someone you know, or even for someone you don’t!  It will make their day, and yours, too.  Happy Friday!

Learning Something New

I’ve recently learned something very fundamental.  Everyone has their own agenda.  No matter where you turn, someone is on the prowl, looking to influence you with their ideals, marketing, and/or popular opinions.  They desperately want you to purchase certain products, believe in a specific value, or embrace a particular trend.  I know what you’re thinking, you’ve just learned that?  In my defense, I’ve never had any real reason to care until now.

I’m not saying that any of these traits are negative, by any means, they are after all the basis of our free, democratic, capitalist society.  But they can also slowly make you forget what it is you stand for when you are constantly bombarded by those who think you can be or do better, if you just “try this” or “buy that” or follow whatever it is that happens to be popular.  There are a slew of “experts” who believe that if you take their advice you will become the person you were always meant to be, a superstar at the particular goal you are hoping to reach.

When I decided to sit down and write my first book, His Second Chance, I had no illusions that it was going to be the next great American novel.   Of course, I wished and hoped for success, but ultimately for me It was just a dream I wanted to fulfill.   After I completed the manuscript I was so incredibly proud.  I accomplished a very important goal that I had set for myself.  Seeing my book published on Amazon for the first time was a truly awesome experience.

Sadly, I was blissfully unaware of the baggage that went into the book after the writing process.  Quickly I was inundated with a barrage of “how to’s” for making my book more successful and myself a better writer, as well as the “do’s and don’ts” of social media and marketing.

Drowning in unwanted and overwhelming advice I began to doubt the months of hard work, concentration, love and (yes tears) that I had put into my dream.  I began to think the story plot was not compelling enough, that my cover lacked a professional appearance, and that my book description left the readers passing me by.   All of these things of course, had solutions… a plethora of e-books filled with advice and author communities that, for a price, would provide services to fix all of my problems.  Unfortunately, they weren’t problems for me until, I started listening and paying attention.

Hesitantly I finished my second book, hoping that I would find the inspiration that I had lost. When the sales for that book weren’t as great as other’s in the field predicted they could be, I went back and slashed the story, added a new cover, rewrote the book description (after weeks of researching the thousands of rules on writing the perfect book copy),  and I’m still not sure it made a difference.

I have to say, at the end of this whole process, I have learned a lot about myself.  Number one being, I must tune out all the noise that bombards me everyday when it comes to unsolicited advice about writing.  Number two, I started writing because it made me happy. And for that reason alone, I need to remember that being an author has to be for the “write” reasons.  If it’s for fame or money, then you should possibly reconsider your dream.  Not to say, I wouldn’t love to have both of those someday.  But even if that never happens, it’s okay because I accomplished my goal and no one can tell me that I didn’t do it the right way.

His Second Chance Excerpt

Dawson was having a great time behind the bar.  He was pleased to see that despite the wait times for dinners and drinks, the overall mood of the place was light-hearted and upbeat.  Even the staff was joking with each other, making it seem like a giant party.  As the night wore on and the crowd grew, it took Dawson and all of his bartenders to keep the drinks filled and everyone happy.

Inundated with orders for several nonstop hours, the night had flown by in a blur and Dawson was ready for a break in the action.  As the crush of people around the bar slowly thinned out he busied himself restocking the liquor bottles and grabbing up the used bar towels.

Always on alert for customers needing drink refills, Dawson’s gaze searched the bar while gathering up some of the used glasses scattered around.  His eyes fell on a woman sitting alone at the very end.  He glanced over to check on the status of her drink.  Her glass was still fairly full.

Finished collecting his dishes, Dawson sat them in the sink, his mind contemplating the oddity of an attractive woman alone at a bar late on a Friday night.  Maybe she was with someone and he had stepped away.  Pushing the thought out of his mind, Dawson stretched his sore, tired muscles and leaned his back against the bar top.  He crossed him arms on his chest, checking his watch in the process.  Almost midnight.  It had been a long day and he was tired.

Standing there enjoying the moment of peace and quiet, the woman at the end of the bar crept back into his thoughts.  He guardedly looked over at her out of the corner of his eyes.  She was still alone.  No date.  As he stood there watching her curiously, an intense feeling of recognition washed over him.  He rubbed his stubbly chin, totally confused by why this mystery woman had suddenly piqued his interest.  Before he had a chance to analyze it any further he was distracted by one of his favorite waitresses.

Dawson turned, leaning his hip against the bar.  He listened as Annie expertly rattled off her drink order from memory.  Annie had worked at Duke’s for as long as he could remember.  She was one of the few remaining employees that had been there from the beginning, working first for his Dad and now for him.

As one of the other bartenders filled the drinks, Annie greeted Dawson with a friendly smile.

“Hey boss. You should be drinking, not serving.”

He grinned in return.

“Now Annie, what would Dad say if I told him I drank away this month’s profits?”

He liked all his employees and had a fun, easy relationship with them.  He was an honest employer and as long as everyone gave one hundred percent while on the job he was easy to get along with.

After a few minutes idly chatting with Annie, before she left to deliver her tray of drinks, Dawson’s mind once again wandered back to the woman still occupying her same spot.  She must be a returning patron, he told himself as a way of explanation.  It sounded reasonable and made sense, he saw a lot of familiar faces each weekend, but that thought didn’t ease his overworked mind.

No longer able to shrug off his bizarre compulsion to discover her identity, Dawson tried to capture a better look at the mystery woman’s face, hoping it would settle his ridiculous issue once and for all.  He honestly had no idea why he cared.

As he approached her, he noticed with annoyance that her face was turned slightly and the loose curls of her hair were blocking the partial view that he had.  Her hair he noticed was a pretty shade of auburn.  Immediately, and totally out of nowhere, his mind conjured up an image of a girl he once knew, with the same hair color.

Dawson was beginning to seriously doubt his mental health.  He knew that he had been working long hours and most likely this crazy cocked up infatuation was just a result of his exhaustion.  Why else would he be obsessing over a customer who obviously wanted to be alone?

That’s it, he thought with relief.  He just couldn’t stand the idea of a beautiful woman sitting at his bar looking lonely.  Dawson rubbed his tired eyes and laughed at himself.

“I’m such an idiot,” he muttered.

Before turning back toward the kitchen to call it a night, he made one last inspection of her drink.  As he did, she reached up and absently tucked her loose curls behind her ear, surprising Dawson with a full view of her face.  Like a swift punch to his gut, he was completely taken aback.  All the relief that he had experienced only a second before was now obliterated.

He did know this mystery woman.  It was her, the girl with the auburn hair that had just reappeared as a memory.  She was sitting here in his bar.  Physically they were only separated by a few feet, but mentally it seemed like a lifetime.   He thought back to the last time he had seen her, a decade ago.

Dawson stood rooted to his spot, tensed up and unblinking, afraid that if he took his eyes away for even a second she would disappear like an apparition.  As if the mystery woman could sense that he was staring at her, she looked up with a nervous smile.  The instant they locked eyes Dawson felt like a lead weight had settled in his lungs making it difficult to breathe.  After a few awkward seconds the lady cleared her throat and spoke.

“Um,” she was clearly embarrassed by his reaction, “Can I have another glass of wine please?”

Dawson quickly gave himself a mental slap and nodded in her direction.  As he turned away, he exhaled the deep breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in.  He rubbed his hand over his face, completely shaken up.

What the hell just happened?  Dawson Mitchell, well known for his reputation as a player, had just been effectively paralyzed by a ghost from his past.

So Glad To Be An Indie Author

When I published my first e-book, I had such a mixture of emotions.  Elated to see my first story in print, I was at the top of the world.  Then over time I could slowly feel that excitement slipping, replaced with uncertainty and anxiety, as I started comparing my book to all the other thousands of books that were filling the self-publishing stratosphere.  Even now, months later I still find myself comparing my book (plot, characters, book covers) to other authors’ works, but there’s one thing I’ve discovered.  In the world of indie authors you are never alone.  I have made so many great connections with other writers in the same place as I am, and they have been nothing but warm, friendly, encouraging and supportive.  I am so grateful to be a part of such a wonderful community of people.  Even if we are strangers, we share the same passion and creativity.  Thanks to all the authors who have visited my social media sites and have reached out with kind words and helpful advice.  This journey has been a dream come true, made even better by the network of people that I have met along the way.

Take Me Home Chapter 1

I’m here.  Where are you?

Nick sighed as he read the incoming text.  His lunch date had arrived and he was in no mood to deal with her.  Pushing his phone aside, he had every intention of ignoring her text, at least for a few minutes.  Leaning back in his chair he tossed his pen onto his desk, massaging his now throbbing temples.

Annoyed that his morning had managed to escape him, now not only was his unfinished pile of paperwork still awaiting his attention, according to his phone, so was his sister.  While he loved her dearly, he hated when she stopped by Duke’s to have lunch with him.  It was never just a friendly visit, there was always some ulterior motive.

Picking up his phone, Nick carefully studied the screen.  He considered claiming he was busy.  It would only take a simple response to her text to send her on her way, but he knew she would never leave easily.  She would be knocking at his office door in a matter of seconds, or worse yet, making a dramatic scene with one of his wait staff, reminding him that she was there.  In even less of a mood to deal with a public confrontation, he got up from his desk with a groan, and reluctantly exited the peace of his office.

Walking through the restaurant on his way toward the dining room, Nick paused when he reached the bar.  Discreetly he stepped behind the counter and helped himself to an empty glass.  Grabbing a bottle of scotch he filled his glass halfway with the amber alcohol.  Studying the glass thoughtfully, he added another generous splash for good measure.  Something told him he was going to need the additional numbing effects.

“Having lunch with Abby?”

Nick turned with his glass in hand, to see his best friend and boss, Dawson, smiling at him.

“That obvious?” he asked, downing his drink in one big swallow.  Grimacing, he sat the empty glass aside.  “I have no idea what she wants this time, but I’m sure I’ll hate whatever it is.  As usual.”

Dawson grabbed his own glass, filling it with scotch as well.   Nick’s brow shot up in question.

“A sympathy drink,” Dawson joked.  “You know my motto, never drink alone.”  He saluted Nick with his glass, getting a smile out of him.  “You know,” Dawson told him, swallowing his drink quickly, “it is possible that this time Abby will surprise you.”

“Yeah, and it’s also possible that I’ll retire tomorrow,” Nick responded sarcastically.

“That will never happen,” Dawson assured him with a chuckle.

Wiping his hand over his face, Nick sighed.  Stepping out from behind the bar, he headed for his sister’s table, determined to ignore the ominous feeling that had now settled in his gut right next to the burning alcohol.

“I have a serious question I need to ask you,” Abby said as Nick took his seat across from her only a second later.

And here we go, he thought to himself with a shake of his head.  “What this time?” he asked out loud.  “Oh, and hello to you too, by the way.”  He loaded the last part with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Quirking up one brow, Abby asked mildly, “Why do you always give me such a hard time?”

“Because I can,” he replied easily. “You do know that you do the same to me.”   She stared at him innocently.   “Whenever you stop by here for lunch,” he pointed out, “you always have some important question you need to ask.  If God forbid, I turn you down, you pour on the guilt.  So, your visits always lead me to doing you some sort of favor.”  With a mocking expression he asked, “Why don’t you just hire an assistant? Or better yet,” he suggested, “ask Mom, she’s retired.”

“I can see you’re in a receptive mood today,” Abby sighed with impatience.  “I guess I’ll just get straight to the point.  This particular request is specifically meant for you big brother.”

Nick slouched back in his chair, waving his hand in a stopping motion.  “Before you go on,” he cut her off, “did you order yet?  Because I need something to eat, before I can deal.” Motioning to the waitress, Nick could feel his stomach churning, reminding him that he had missed a few meals.   “Okay,” he said, as their orders were given and they were alone again. “Spill it, what do you want?”

Abby opened her mouth to speak, but her request was again interrupted, this time by the arrival of her fiancé Dave.  Shaking Nick’s hand in greeting, he pulled up a chair next to Abby.   “Did you ask him yet?” he questioned, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Nick’s gaze wandered back and forth between the two of them.

“I haven’t been given a chance,” she complained.

Settling his attention on his sister, Nick mildly inquired, “Ask me what Abby?”

Gracing him with an affectionate smile, she cleared her throat.  “Well, we’ve finally settled on a wedding date,” she told him, laying her head on Dave’s shoulder.  “And it would mean a lot to us, Nick…to me specifically,” she clarified, “if you would be Dave’s best man.”

Nick sat back clasping his hands behind his neck.  He carefully considered the couple sitting in front of him, begging him with their smiles.  Dawson’s prediction surprised him, it wasn’t quite as bad as he had expected after all.  Remembering his off-handed comment about retiring, he smiled.

“I think that’s a good sign,” Dave whispered to Abby.

“Why not,” Nick replied.  “I’d be honored.”

Abby sighed a breath of relief.  She knew in her heart he wouldn’t let her down, he never did, but she wasn’t prepared for him to be so nice about it.

“Thank you so much Nick.  Have I told you lately what a wonderful brother you are?”  Rounding the table she threw her arms around him in a fierce hug.

“Okay, okay,” he complained, wincing from her grip around his neck. “Let’s not make a big scene.”

Abby let go abruptly as she heard the muffled ringing of her phone.  Reaching into her purse, she glanced down at the screen.

“Oh my god,” she squealed.  Nick and Dave stared at one another as she picked up the call. “Hey, it’s so good to hear from you.  Are your reservations set?  Great.  Saturday morning at 11:00.  I can’t wait to see you, too.”

Dropping her phone back in her purse, Dave gave her a flustered expression.   “Is there something I should know about?” he asked hesitantly.

“That was just Charlotte,” she replied with a dismissive wave.

“Oh.” Dave looked relieved.

Nick froze.  Suddenly, the air in the room seemed thin, making it difficult for him to breathe.    “Charlotte?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” Abby responded, watching his odd expression. “You do remember her don’t you?  I think maybe you’ve been working too hard,” she commented with a mixture of sarcasm and concern.

Nick leaned back in his seat, dragging in a long, deep breath.  He definitely remembered her, he wished he could forget.

Abby continued, “Thanks to me, she’ll be here Saturday morning.  Her flight lands at eleven.”

Nick stared at her blankly.  How long had it been since he saw Charlotte last?  Eight years, he reminded himself.

Abby was still talking.  “I asked her to be the maid of honor for the wedding,” she said excitedly.

With a pause in the conversation, Nick shook his head several times before asking, “When did you say the wedding date was?”  He needed some clarification, an explanation of some sort.

“I didn’t, but it will be in September,” she replied, absently clearing a spot in front of her for the arrival of their lunch.

Nick took the moment of distraction to absorb the information that had just been dumped in his lap.  “If the wedding is seven months away,” he questioned out of nowhere, his tone agitated, “then why is she coming here Saturday?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Abby asked again.  With a flip of his hand, Nick silently indicated she should just answer the question.   “Charlotte has decided to make a life change, so her trip back here is going to be a permanent one.”

“A life change?” he asked slowly.  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  Nothing about this conversation was good.  At least not for him.

“Charlotte is tired of her chaotic life in Chicago,” Abby admitted.  “She’s had a successful career as a pastry chef for the last ten years, but she’s really burned out.  One day she mentioned setting up her own little bakery and,” Abby stated proudly, “I just happened to have the perfect location available downtown.  She jumped at the chance to come back home and settle down here, with us.” Abby was clearly ecstatic about her best friend’s return.  Him…not so much.

Us, he thought morosely.  He didn’t need any, us, in his life.  His life was fine just the way it was, without Charlotte MacIntyre in it.  Poking distractedly at his lunch, Nick’s mind began wandering.  Slowly Abby’s voice faded as he found himself surrounded by the ghost of a memory, eight years in the past…

…“Oh, Nick,” Charlotte’s voice trailed off as they almost collided in the kitchen doorway.

Arriving late as usual to his Dad’s surprise birthday party, he was in dire need of a cold drink as he headed for the kitchen.  Unknowingly, he had stepped directly into Charlotte’s path as she exited at the same time.

“How are you?” she asked looking up at him.  They were standing only inches from one another.

Polite courtesy would have been for him to back up a step, but he was too stunned to move.  He swallowed hard as his gaze searched her face, getting lost in her beautiful whiskey colored eyes.  Unsure of what to say, he simply replied, “Fine.  And you?”

“I’m doing well thanks,” she said.   Her responding smile lit up the whole room, causing his heart to beat just a little faster making him agitated.  Their eyes remained locked, as the stilted conversation turned into a long drawn out silence.

Unable to react, he barely managed a slight nod.  Standing there staring at her, one emotion after another parading through his gut, Nick noticed the faint blush that was creeping up her cheeks.  Before he had a chance to speak, she broke the silence.

“I, uh, need to get this pitcher of iced tea to the table before your mom thinks I got lost,” she joked, holding up the container as her excuse.

“Yeah,” he replied, hesitating for a moment before moving to the side of the doorway to let her pass.

“It’s good seeing you,” she called over her shoulder.  “Maybe we’ll get a chance to catch up before I leave.”  Once again she flashed him another amazing smile.

Nick watched her cross the room, her wildly curly hair floating and bobbing around her shoulders and down her back.  Feeling self-conscious he stepped into the kitchen, desperately seeking some breathing room.

After hiding out long enough to down a few beers, Nick knew he had to return to the party.  As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t hang out alone in the kitchen all night.  It wouldn’t be long before someone came searching for him.  Certainly that person would never be Charlotte, but thanks to his slight buzz, he had wished it would be.  Sadly he realized that was the last thing he needed. Why hadn’t his sister warned him that Charlotte would be there?

Leaving the protection of his secluded spot, he casually slipped into the living room to join the party.  Lingering on the edges of the crowd, he was forced to watch Charlotte flawlessly fit into his family, as if she had never left them.  Left him.  Thankfully her visit was only temporary.  He could survive a few days.  And then she would be gone…again.

“Nick.”

Vaguely, from somewhere in the distance, he heard Abby’s voice tugging at his thoughts.  Looking up at his sister with a dazed expression, he was quickly dumped back into the present.

“I’m worried about you.  I seriously think you’ve been working too hard,” she said, this time with less sarcasm and more concern.

Drumming his fingers idly on the table, he was well aware that his reaction had nothing to do with his long hours and everything to do with the woman they were now discussing.  It never mattered that she wasn’t a biological part of the Lowery family.  He knew that his parents considered Charlotte a daughter and Abby loved her like a sister.

Personally, he had no idea how he felt about her, or what he considered her to be.  And now he had made a promise to his sister that included the two of them together after all these years.  A decision he was hoping he wouldn’t regret.

Time for Print, YAY!!

I have conquered the e-publishing world, now it’s time to venture into print.  I am currently revising my first story (just a tad), to get it ready for it’s new version.  I’m unsure how the process works, but I figure if I can write it, e-publish it, and navigate the spider web of social media…well then what’s another challenge?  When the process is over and my lovely books are in my hands, I will let everyone know.  Maybe a book signing?

...

                                                                          You are the best!  I just wanted to thank all  of my friends and those readers who took a  chance on my first book and then  supported my second book as well.  I really  appreciate all the kind comments and  reviews.  I am excited to continue my  writing journey with my next project which  will be a little different from what I’ve  written so far.  More details to come…