Allan Hudson's Blog, page 14

The Story Behind the Story with Author Don Bourque of Moncton, NB, Canada.

 

I had the pleasure of meeting Don atthe GMRD Book Fair in Riverview, NB, on April 22nd of this year andwe had tremendous fun meeting new readers and sharing our stories.

Don graciously agreed to be our guestthis week and tell us the Story Behind the Story.

Read on, my friends.

Born and raised in the Moncton, NB area, Don Bourque spent 37 years inthe Army Reserve and retired as a senior officer. In civilian life, he workedin public education and private sector mental health. Writing has always beenan interest, since being encouraged by his Grade 12 English teacher. Poetry andshort prose were followed by a non-fiction account of his operational tour inKabul, Afghanistan. He has now written and published two works of fiction, inYoung Adult Fantasy.

Working Title: The Willow’s Wake Trilogy: Vol 1 Willow Awakened, Ascended, Avenged and Vol 2 The Grand Chieftain.

 

Synopsis: Born of inter-racial rape, a young Night Elf/WoodSprite takes on racism with her newfound allies. Willow Awakened, Ascended,Avenged is a trilogy of Young Adult Fantasy novellas with a strong femalecharacter who comes of age while caught between two cultures.

A smith’s apprentice raised to lead a village, Garnidel is thrust into awar against the encroachment of humanity. Volume 2 of The Willow’s WakeTrilogy by Canadian author Don Bourque, The Grand Chieftain takes usto new adventures across the great serpentine river.

The Story behind the Story: At first, my inspiration in writingthis trilogy was to inspire young people to resist bullying and address racism.As the story developed, the theme changed to resisting colonization and willconclude with conciliation.

Website: https://www.donbourque.ca

Aquestion before you go, Don:

Can you tell us about the perfect setting you have, or desire, foryour writing? Music or quiet? Coffee or tequila?  Neat or notes everywhere?

I write best in a quiet corner of my living room, with a glass of wateror cup of coffee close at hand. Most of my “notes” are bullet points onPowerPoint slides.

 

 

 

Thank you for being our guest thisweek, Don. Wishing you lots of success with your writing.

 

And a big thank you to our visitorsand readers. You folks are the best.

On another note:

Good news for those who are waiting for Volume 2 of the Alexanders Series.

You are the first folks to see the new cover. Copies available by mid-June.

Watch here for more details.

Thanks you.

The Off-Earth Living Pods. A short story by Allan Hudson

 

 

 

Another short story for our visitorsand readers this week.

Imagine what the world might be likein 2257, over two hundred years from now.

It could go this way.

If you remember my earlier story – The FarOut Mall - and what it was like shopping inOuter Space, this story carries on from there.

 

The Off-Earth Living Pods

September 23, 2257

 

TheCaterpillar XN4789 is the largest truck out of the world. Its sole purpose isto transport water to the Off-Earth Living Pods (LPs), normally hovering abovethe globe anywhere from the international Space Boundary (ISB) of two hundredmiles to the farthest one, the InterCosmic Manor 2240 which orbits at sixhundred and three miles.  All two hundredand sixty-three LPs are self-sustaining except for their water supply. There’sno shortage of Adam’s Ale on planet Earth. Since the ice caps melted late inthe twenty-first century, followed by a downpour of biblical proportions, onlythe extremely rich, and water-heavy industry exist on the mountain tops. By thevirtue of Macintosh Fairweather, who foresaw and forecasted the extremeconditions coming to the planet, he proposed to the world’s leaders that theonly way the human population would survive was to build living pods in space.

Atfirst, they scoffed at his proposals, calling them the visions of a mad man. Hewarned them that they had the raw materials, the finances, the ease andsimplicity of space travel, they should act now. Most rejected his ideas, somedid not. Eventually, he convinced the world’s most populous countries, China,Canada, India and the United States to divert funds to the erecting of thefirst LPs. Unfortunately, the timing of his prediction was too late andbillions of people perished in the flooding. Besides the 1500 residents livingand working in the mountaintops, the rest of the human population livesOff-Earth either in LPs or the twin cities of Aether and Hemera in theTranquillittatis Mare of the moon or the Arcadia Planitia of Mars.Interplanetary travel is a breeze thanks to the forward thinking of GeronimoPlacedo who pioneered teleportation in the twenty-first century, a concept thatwas only thought of in science fiction publications of the nineteenth andtwentieth centuries. At present, teleportation is taken for granted andtravelers often complain of the forty-two minutes it takes to transport fromone planet to the next as it being too slow. No one complains about the 1.2second trip to the moon though.

 

Geoffrey(Geo) Galanos is the only person with enough experience to handle the XN4789. InEarth’s atmosphere, the vehicle would weigh over a million pounds, in space itweighs nothing at all but possess abundant inertial mass. Improper orinexperienced handling of the controls and thrusters could extensively damagean LP during docking, so only the most experienced orbital jockeys are hired tooperate the large water transports. Galanos has nicknamed the XN4789, Potizo, the Greek word for irrigate.Today is the first water delivery for the colossal machine and the first LPneeding an immediate re-supply is the hostile LV2. Galanos is the only one ofthree drivers that volunteers for delivery to either LV1 or LV2. As evil as theowners are, they know better than to fuck with Galanos. He carries not one, buttwo extremely rare Remington Valences, the most powerful ionic handguns inOff-Earth. Dubbed Sensei by thepractitioners of sangfroid, thedeadliest of Canadian martial arts, he has few equals in hand to hand combat.His very demeanor and Greek arrogance cause the boldest to step aside.

LP2129(numbered after the year it was built) was the first LP built by the Save theWorld Conglomeration. Updated many times, the lowest orbiting LP is now a dockingand work station for water transports and other space vehicles.  The smaller transports that enter the Earth’satmosphere are hardy “pick-ups” that skim the surface filling their tanks fortransfer to the larger trucks which are too big to travel back and forth.Mainly financed by Toyota, LP 2129 contains a spacecraft dealership, work bays,body shops, gym, a college for mechanics, welders, electricians, plumbers andmillwrights, its own “breathe and feed” levels, the mandatory hospital and livingquarters for the 2300 people that inhabit the LP. It also contains an armory.That’s where Geo is now as Potizo isbeing loaded.

Geois a big man, muscles bulge from his limbs like tree knots. His long dark hairis tucked behind his ears, his eyes shine in anticipation. He’s wearing thelatest design in space suits, slick and body forming. The armorer, RietaBalser, helps him strap the Valances to his thighs after charging the weapons.She slaps him on the ass after she’s tightened the straps, pausing for a momentto squeeze the firm buttock. She winks at him before he leaves.

“Ifyou make it back from LV2 big guy, I’m off at 1800 hours and I’d love to rubyour sore muscles. Know what I mean?”

“Don’tyou worry about me making it back Rieta, there’s nothing on LV2 that I can’thandle? I need to deliver a load to 2599 after but I could be free then. Ifyour offer’s good, you’d better rest up while I’m away. Know what I mean?”

Beforethey depart with a chuckle and a promise, she warns him of the virkon-eptile detectedon LV2 several days ago and passes him a Threat Detector, calibrated for theunique sounds of slithering scales, the faint scent of raw meat, and x-rayvisuals of the flesh-eating monsters. If one of the virkon-eptiles, deadlybeings brought back from an asteroid being mined by a worker named Virkon, iswithin a range of thirty feet, it will sound a loud warning and the bearer onlyhas seconds to react. Otherwise, they are merely fodder.

Proceedingto the docking station on the 2nd level, he sees the setting sunreflecting of Potizo’s golden skin through the tall windows. It’s huge. Itreminds him of the Zeppelins of the nineteenth century he saw at the aviationmuseum on LP2189, only five times as large. Passing through the air lock, heremoves his helmet and oxygen pack and leaves them his locker. When he entersthe cockpit, he breathes in the rare aroma of real leather on the pilot’s seat.They went all out on the interior. Sitting at the controls, he admires the 240-degreeviewing field. Hovering cam-bots show the spacecraft at every angle. Settled in,the control panel senses his implant and appears within easy reach, thetryedellium panel is pure energy, stored in the ship’s memory, responsive totouch, voice. Due to limited breakthroughs in thought control technology andadvances in human implants, he can command it to appear and rest at will.

“Checkengines”

Amulti gauge panel appears over the control panel, everything is in the green.

“Rearcam-bots”

Thetop panel is replaced with a ten-screen panel with images from behind, thedocking arms holding the ship in place, the glistening exterior of the LP withthe sun shining directly on it, the hovercraft of the exterior maintenancecrews. Several cameras show the rear of the truck. The sleek metallic skin, thedocking and transfer hub, the rear mounted laser cannon. He presses a combo ofkeys on his left-hand pad and the gun swivels and rotates wherever he looks. The lowest right insetzooms in to a full screen and a bullseye follows its every move. Even with theworld mostly at peace, there are still pirates, especially where he’s going.

“Shipmonitor.”

Thescreen is replaced by the command center and communications.  The right-hand pad controls the engine,steering thrusters, all external components. Entering the right combo, the shipunlocks from the docking arms, top thrusters ignite and push the ship slowlyaway. Letting the inertia carry him a thousand feet, another finger command andthe fisome-fueled engine grows hot. Deeming his distance beyond launchperimeter, he commands the main thruster to boost him toward outer space.Satellites keep him posted at all times where each LP is located, where it isin its orbit. LV2 is at mile 455 and in the Scatter Zone where LP 2199 wasdestroyed by an asteroid and the debris field extends from mile 445 to mile465. The computers have calculated his path in and exactly thirty-three minuteslater, the path back out.

Whenhe reaches the outer perimeter of the Scatter Zone, Geo leaves it on autopilot,ready in a second’s notice to take over manually if necessary. At mile 448, theship hovers in its path when overhead a chunk of the former LP whizzes by at20,000 miles an hour. A whole section, maybe three hundred feet across, circlesthe globe endlessly. The ship reaches LV2 at the apogee of its orbit, thetiming synched by the delivery team. Going manual, Geo calls up cam-bot six andeight. The docking station on LV2 is on the bottom level. Huge bay doors withwild graffiti and murals, line the #3 octagonal. The second door slowly slidesapart. Potizo would never fit inside so Geo skillfully parks its ass endnear and the docking arms clamp on his upper frame. He shuts it down anddissolves the control panel. Freeing himself from his seat, he grabs hishelmet, life support system and after strapping everything on, he steps intothe airlock, backs into his EMU (Extravehicular Mobility Unit), custom designedby Bombardier Propulsion, locks in, hits the exit cycle button and as soon asthe vacuum is restored, the door slides upward and he flies out. He loves the jet-pack;it’s their newest model, lighter, much faster than the previous one and easierto control.

Landingin the cargo bay, he watches the docking personnel, called bay-grunts,marveling at the size of Potizo,swarming around the outer perimeter admiring the sleek lines and high glossskin, while others swing the off-load tubes into place and connect to the ship.They know who he is and stay out of his way. By the time he enters the platform airlocks, he can see the huge pipespulsating from the pumps sucking the precious liquid into storage tanks on the2nd level. When oxygen is restored, he removes his helmet, unstrapshis EMU, places them in an open visitor’s rack and locks it, pocketing the key.Even in the 23rd century, nothing beats an old-fashioned lock.

Thereceiving bays are the busiest in the LV2. Every LP has manufacturing levelsbut LV2 manufacture very little so shipping is a small section of the serviceoctagonal. There specialty is drugs, weapons, gambling, prostitution andalcohol. Anyone needing such vices come here, very little gets shipped out,other than waste and dead bodies. Geo is met by the two members of the PodPatrol, LV2’s own policing unit. Even though Geo is over six feet tall, the twomen tower over him. Clad in black mondicorarmor, which is hard and flexible, weapons strapped to wrists and thighs, theyare an intimidating duo. The one with the eye patch and tattooed face isobviously senior and greets Geo with a raised hand.

“Noentering the Pod with weapons, you’ll have to leave them with us.”

Geostands akimbo and glares at the two men. Without weapons, he’s a dead man.

“I’mgetting the bot-credits for the water and as soon as the truck’s empty, I’mleaving. If I have to walk through those revolving doors to the purser’soffice, I’m not going in this hell hole without them. So, you have two choices.Either go get the payment and bring it to me or try taking the weapons from me.Your call.”

Thepatrolmen look at each other. They’re not usually challenged and when they are,they make quick work of the opponent. They step closer, side by side, a formidable wall. Bay-grunts pause attheir work to watch, grinning at the commotion. Eye Patch grits his teeth.

“We’renot errand boys so we’ll take you up on option two. You’ve got five secondsbefore…”

Geodoesn’t give the leader time to finish his threat. He drives the point of hismiddle finger into the good eye with enough force to pop it out of the socket.A thin knife, concealed under the sleeve of his armor, extends with the flickof the wrist and penetrates the brain through the now empty eye socket. In thesame instance, he draws his right sidearm and triggering the firing mechanism,slices the arm off of patrolman number two just above the elbow. Eye Patchdrops to the bay floor, already dead before he makes contact. Number two ishowling from the pain and tries to activate the wrist-paralyzer on his lefthand when Geo gives him his full attention. With precision unmatched, he slices away the weapon taking a layer ofskin with it, drop kicks the big man with enough force to propel him againstthe revolving doors that shatter from the impact and the man falls to thefloor, unconscious.  Geo walks casuallyto the fallen patrolman and places his weapon on the forehead and pulls thetrigger.

Exceptfor the hum of the huge pumps, everything has gone silent. Geo looks around forany other menaces before he holsters his weapon. The bay-grunts won’t meet hiseyes and they return to their tasks. It’s not the first time they’ve seen deathin these bays but it’s the first time anyone’s beaten these two. He gets a wideberth when he steps over the dead bodies and through the shattered glass doorson his way to the purser’s office which is two down on the left. He ignores theDo not Disturb sign on the prompter and walks in. The purser is a fat man, baldand sweaty with perspiration forming droplets on his brow. He looks up at theintruder intending to scold whoever it is. When he sees Geo looming over hisdesk and the startling point is the simple fact that he’s come this far andwith weapons still attached to his thighs. He knows without a doubt that Morganand Delvecchio are either incapacitated… or dead. He’s scared; no one makes itpast them.

“What…what do you want?”

“H2Ofrom Earth is being downloaded as we speak. You owe me 48,000 bot-credits.”

“I…I don’t have that much here.”

“Whynot? You knew I was coming today.”

“Iwasn’t expecting you this early. I’ll need a few minutes. Can you wait here?”

“No.I’ll go with you. Now let’s hurry, I’ve got other loads to deliver and mysafety window is rapidly closing.”

Perspirationblooms under the armpits of Fat man as he gets up from his desk.

“Okay…okay, then follow me.”

 

Thirty-twominutes after arrival, Geo maneuvers through the debris field and enters thesafe zone. Returning to home base, LP2129, he will fill up and make a deliveryto LP2185. He hasn’t been back there since Gracia Moeller, the owner ofAlexander’s Fine Jewellery flagship store was charged with murder of one of herclients. The charges were dropped when it came to light that she was informedthe new weapons were not loaded. After a power outage and virkon-eptilesfeasting, she installed the pulse pistols to protect herself, staff and patronsfrom the monsters. In anger she pointed one, which she was told wasn’t charged,at an abusive customer and that customer became dust. Geo wants to meet her.

 

InterCosmicManor 2185 is an enormous, golden octagon orbiting the Earth at twenty-sixthousand miles per hour in Low Earth Orbit, six hundred and three miles abovethe Earth’s surface, moving west to east. It circles the globe every 57 seconds.Approaching it a slightly higher speed, Geo sights it visually about to enterdarkness over the Pacific Ocean. It glistens in the dying light like a radiantcitrine. Within a hundred miles, he matches the speed of the giant satellite.Coaxing the ship in place he prepares to dock on the lower level. Giant armsreach out to clamp on Potizo’s outer docking frames. When secure, Geo locksdown the ship. Preparing himself for a visit to the Mall area, he dons a cleanshirt from the locker, his black and chrome space suit and matching helmet,knowing women stare lustfully at him when he wears it. A dab of his favoritecologne. He’s off.

Leavinghis jetpack in storage, he informs the loadmaster he’ll return shortly thentransports to the 16-A Octagonal. The doors open facing a food court. The aromaof heavy spices used in roasting moonchicken is wafting into the hallway, his stomach growls reminding him heneeds to eat. Alexander’s Fine Jewellery is to the front and on the right. Thefood court is busy with shoppers relaxing and dining; people are browsing inthe hallways, many with shopping bags full. The murmur of the different voiceshums over it all. 

Hetakes in the hovering droids over his head whose only purpose is to killvirkon-eptiles. The abandoned InterCosmic PRT (prison/rehab/termination) 2177 houses the majority of beasts still alive. Some escape. Bounty hunters probethe LPs for any that may be hiding.

Thejewellery store has only two patrons. A young man is serving one of them and a middle-agedlady is serving another. He notices the lady’s fine business suit, the latestfashion from Stile designers. Hershort hair is in the latest bob, gems hang from her small ears. She has herback to him when Geo enters the store but looks toward him when she hears himenter. Both stop in their tracks and stare; the attraction is immediate.

Sheholds up a finger asking him to wait one moment and assists her guest to make apurchase. Geo can’t take his eyes off her and hopes this is the owner he’sheard so much about. She approaches him with a genuine smile that softens thefine lines around her eyes. Extending a hand toward him she introduces herself.

“Hellospace jockey. Welcome to Alexanders. I’m Gracia.”

Hetakes her hand and looks down at her; she’s a foot shorter than him. He staresat the twinkle of mischief he sees in her eyes.

“Name’sGeo. Happy to meet you, Gracia.”

“HiGeo. What brings you into our store today?”

“Youdo actually.”

Droppinghis hand, she blushes at his directness with a questioning look on her face.

“Me?”

“Yes,I wanted to meet the lady that vaporized her guest.”

Therouge in her cheeks is replaced by a frown and beetled brow. He didn’t mean tobe so blunt and can see she’s offended. He points at the pulse pistol in thefashionable holster on her hip.

“I’msorry, I didn’t mean to upset you but I admire your gusto. Of course, everyonewas talking about it and it was an accident after all but there are not manywomen that are comfortable using pulse pistols and only the most trustedapplicants get permits.”

Shestands back from Geo and leans her back against one of the counters.

“Itwas an accident, a deadly one unfortunately. As you likely know, the pistolsare to protect us and our patrons from the deadly eptiles but I really don’twant to talk about it.”

“Iunderstand. Bet no one messes with you. Have you had to use it since?”

Thiscauses the weakest of smiles; she is overwhelmed by the big man’s sexual allureand softens her stance.

“Well,not on any customers, thank goodness. I’ve been practicing with the safety andhave it down to a micro second thumb flip so it’s safe to shop here now.”

Helikes the way she laughs. She likes the cologne he wears.

“Didyou really come here for just that, Geo? Or do you need to pick up somethingfor your wife… or girlfriend perhaps?”

He’sabout to comment when the overhead lights flicker. Galanos’ threat detectorscreams its early warning signal of the presence of eptiles. Every main door onevery floor slams shut. People hustle for cover crowding near the stationerydefbots that have their own emergency power source. Gracia does as she’s beentrained. There’s only one patron and her two staff and Geo. She rushes everyoneto the main counter. The lights do an off-and-on dance for ten of fifteenseconds before everything goes dark. Gracia draws her pistol. Everyone listens.Eptiles travel with great speed, their hardened scales clatter on the overheadpipes. Several are on the move. Bursting through grills, they spill intodifferent locations.

Twoslithers into the food court. In the dark you can smell them, a scent that onlybe described as rot. The worm like being has two short legs in the front, threetoes with talons, the posterior moves with leather-like scales A mouth slit ison the underbody, lined with crunching bones. The defbots are programmed to recognize the eptiles by smell, sound orsight. Detection is immediate. Pulses from the droid’s cannon cuts the firstone in half, the front clawing to escape before secondary pulses blasts it toashes. The second one receives a direct burst under its antennas and vaporizesthe front half of its six-foot length. The unmoving rear section gets zappedalso, nothing of the beast remains.

Theother one is perched on an overhead mirror in Alexander’s Fine Jewellery. They heardit enter after something fell to the floor. Gracia urges them to stay quiet andbehind her. Geo stands at her side. The monster is young, only four feet long,hunting by instinct. It senses its prey below and is about to leap when thelights come back on. Like its kin, it is tormented by bright lights andscrambles for the opening that it came through. Gracia is fast with her pulsepistol and releases several bursts from her weapon. The first pulse of pureenergy obliterates the eptile, the second, third and fourth pulse reflects offthe mirror. One takes out a large section of the front door, anotherobliterates the counter with moon crystals and the third vaporizes Geo’s leftarm from the elbow down. Gracia stares at the pile of ash at his feet, clampsher hand to her mouth.

“Oh,shit!” 

 

 

Thank you for visiting and yourcomments.

See you next week with Atlantic CanadianAuthor Don Bourque.

The Story Behind the Story with Jane Doucet of Nova Scotia, Canada.

 

It's a pleasure to have Jane with us again. She was a guest almost a year ago and if you missed her visit, please go HERE.
This week Jane is going to tell us about her novel – The Pregnant Pause. Released with a new publisher and a new cover, she is excited about sharing the news with you.

Jane Doucet is a journalist whose articles have appeared in myriad national magazines, including Chatelaine and Canadian Living. In 2017, she self-published her debut novel, The Pregnant Pause, which was shortlisted for a 2018 Whistler Independent Book Award. Jane is thrilled that in spring 2023, Halifax-based Vagrant Press is rereleasing The Pregnant Pause with a fresh new cover. In 2021, Vagrant published Jane’s second novel, Fishnets & Fantasies. Jane’s third book, Lost & Found in Lunenburg, which Vagrant will publish in fall 2023, combines characters from her first two novels. Jane lives in Halifax, Nova Scotia, with her husband.

 

Title: The Pregnant Pause

 

 

Synopsis:Just before her thirty-seventhbirthday, Rose Ainsworth has her first attack of baby fever. She adoreschildren, especially her sister’s kids, but she’s facing a dilemma. Not only isher husband refusing to commit to becoming a parent, but her friends are drowningin all the joys of mothering. She feels cut off and, worst of all, she’sworried that maybe she isn’t motherhood material. Rose’s journey through thepotential pitfalls and prospects of parenting is a roller coaster ride—ajourney that many women travel as they work, play and listen to theirbiological clock ticking away.

 

TheStory behind the Story: In2003, when I was in my mid-thirties, I was searching for a lighthearted, funnynovel to read that sent a positive message to women who assumed they’d havechildren but, for whatever reason, it didn’t happen. I couldn’t find one, so Idecided to try writing one myself. There are lots of novels that end with ‘Andshe had a baby and lived happily ever after.’ I wanted to write a differentstory. I signed with a literary agent in London, England, but after threemonths of revisions, we parted ways over creative differences around theending. Discouraged, I let the manuscript sit in a drawer for 14 years. Then,in 2017, with a friend’s encouragement, I decided to self-publish it. And nowI’m thrilled that Vagrant Press is giving it new life by rereleasing it.

 

Excerpt:

 

“When are you planning to have a baby?” Vincente didn’t care if hestepped over the line. Vincente ignored the line.

“That’s just it, we don’t know if we are,” saidRose. “I’ve been trying to decide over the past few months. I mean, it’s such aserious decision. If we have a baby and then find out we aren’t cut out to beparents, it’s not like we can give it away.”

“Sure you can, sweetie, you can give it to me.I’ll bring up your baby,” Vincente said charitably. It was no secret that hewas eager to adopt, but his partner—Paulo from Puerto Rico, who was in hisearly fifties—thought they were too old.

“Thanks that’s kind of you,” said Rose. “I’llthink about it.”

“Good girl,” said Vincente.

 

Website: www.janedoucet.com

 

Aquestion before you go, Jane:

Can you tell usabout the perfect setting you have, or desire, for your writing? Music orquiet? Coffee or tequila?  Neat or noteseverywhere?

 

The quiet ofmy home office, working on my iMac at my sit-stand desk. Decaf green tea anddark chocolate, daily (can’t write without them). Neat most of the time, butsometimes—especially in the early stages of research—notes everywhere.

Thanks for being our guest this week, Jane. Wishing you lots of success with your books.

And a HUGE thank you to all our visitors and readers.

The Story Behind the Story with Ritu Bhathal of Great Britain.

 

Ritu is no stranger to theScribbler. Always a welcome guest.

This week we will discover the SBTS ofher new novel, Straight As A Jalebi

If   you’ve missed the Ritu’s other visit, pleasego HERE.

 

Read on my friends.

 

 

Ritu Bhathal was born in Birmingham in the mid-1970sto migrant parents, hailing from Kenya but with Indian origin. Ritu's colorfulbackground has been a constant source of inspiration to her.

From childhood, she always enjoyed reading. This loveof books is credited to her mother. The joy of reading spurred her on to becomecreative in her writing, from fiction to poetry. Winning little writingcompetitions at school and locally encouraged her to continue writing.

As a wife, mother, daughter, sister, and teacher, shehas drawn on inspiration from many avenues to create the poems that she writes.A qualified teacher, having studied at Kingston University, she now deals withclasses of children as a sideline to her writing!

Ritu also writes a blog, www.butismileanyway.com, amixture of life and creativity, thoughts and opinions, which was awarded firstplace in the Best Overall Blog Category at the 2017 Annual Bloggers BashAwards, and Best Book Blog in 2019.

Ritu is happily married and living in Kent, with her Hubby Dearest, andtwo children, not forgetting the fur baby Sonu Singh.

 

 

 Working Title: Straight As A Jalebi

 

Synopsis: Who knew that an innocent trip to India would have such an impact on hislife?

 Sunny had only gone as a chaperone for hissister and her best friend, and to attend a few business matters while outthere.

He’dended up with a deal that was to change the shape of his professional future,and possibly his personal one, too.

 

 

The Story behind the Story: Way back when, I began writing astory. It took nearly 20 years to get from an idea to a self-published novel,Marriage Unarranged. As I basked in the happiness of my first novel out there,the characters I had written about would not be quiet.

Infact, other readers wouldn’t stop either. ‘What about so and so in thebook?’  ‘I’d love to hear what happensnext’…

Andso, the beginnings of ideas for a further two books came about.

StraightAs A Jalebi, or SAsAJ as I like to call it, was born, as I followed the storyof one of my first book’s secondary characters, charting his confusion duringhis journey to discovering his sexuality, as a British born Sikh guy, in theearly 2000s.

Thereare updates on the other characters, too, leaving the door open for book three,which I am beginning the first draft of, now.

 

 

Website: www.ritubhathal.com

***StraightAs A Jalebi can be preordered HERE.

 

A question before you go, Ritu:

Canyou tell us about the perfect setting you have, or desire, for your writing?Music or quiet? Coffee or tequila?  Neator notes everywhere?

 

The biggest thing I need for writing, is energy, and inspiration.

After that, quiet would be good, but I don’t mind low music, as long asit isn’t something I already love, because I will then end up just singingalong to it instead of writing!

I’d have a cup of tea by my side, or a large glass of water or cordial.

And snacks. A writer needs fuel!

And I am, in general, a bit of a neat freak so I like to have organizednotes around me or a plan on my whiteboard.

 

 

Book Blurb: Who knew that an innocent trip to India in the year 2000 would have such an impact on his life? Sunny had only gone as a chaperone for his sister and her best friend and to attend to a few business matters.
He ended up with a deal that would change the shape of his professional future and possibly his personal one too.

Battling the pressures of marriage by his family isn’t Sunny’s only fight, as he finds his feelings for a certain ‘friend’ may be more than just friendship.

But how can he tell anyone how he truly feels?
Because the road to love isn't always straight...

Ritu Bhathal is a fresh, new, and much-needed voice for British Asian fiction.
Straight As a Jalebi is Book 2 in the Rishtay Series, following the Gill family in the new millennium. Book 3 due out in 2024.

Here's the first one.

 

Thanks for being our guest once more, Ritu.Wishing you continued success with your writing.

 

 

And a BIG thanksto our visitors and readers.

Merlin Star Press of New Brunswick, Canada.

 

Merlin Star Press.

 

 www.merlinstarpress.com 

From their website...... 

Merlin Star Press is anaccessible, local publisher that supports writers through their creativeprocess, offering them an opportunity to be published. Our concentration willbe in Southeast New Brunswick, with the long-term goal of including authorsfrom Atlantic Canada.

 

So, this week you will meet the Board of Directors  but first, we have the Managing Editor, DonBlewett, with us to tell us more.

 

 

Scribbler: Hello Don. Thanks for taking the timeto tell the public about this exciting new adventure. How did all this begin?

 

Don: Thanks for having me on your Blog Allan. Merlin Star Press began aftersomeone at our monthly writers group meeting said, “Is anyone else hereinterested in starting a publishing company?” There was a flurry of thought anda number of people put their hand up.

A small core group got together andwrote a Mission Statement and set initial goals. Meetings were organized, planswere made, people were invited to join and in the end a group of eight peopleformed the core management group of Merlin Star Press.

Planning then began in earnest withelections for critical positions and the assignments of positions and duties.The legal wheels were put in motion and proudly, Merlin Star Press became alegal entity by the first week of January 2023.

Then our eyes became set on findingauthors and manuscripts.

Being so new, we chose, at first, to concentrateon South Eastern New Brunswick authors before expanding into the rest of theMaritimes.

A Web presence was developed forinformation, manuscript submissions and author assistance. Please drop by andhave a look around at merlinstarpress.com

 

Scribbler: What exactly does your role as Managing Editor entail?

 

Don: In my base interpretation, I consider myself a juggler. We have beenblessed by having a number of screening and editing volunteers come forward.Their passions as with most writers is reading. In the various writing groupsthat they are involved with, they provide sound constructive critique of otherauthors work, as well as encouragement.

When we receive the initial limitedsubmissions from authors, they come to me. I will organize a number of the“Screeners” to go over all of the information provided for each submission.Having a minimum of three screeners as well as a standardized template giveseach author equal footing. If I notice a large discrepancy between theopinions, I will have someone else read it as well.

Once the screeners reports areorganized, the core group of Merlin Star Press will select which authors torequest the submission of their full manuscripts

These too will go through a similaracceptance process until we can approach authors and say we would like to talkto you seriously about your book and how we can help you get it from yourmanuscript to the hands of readers.

 

 

Scribbler: Are you an Author also? What do youwrite? 

 

Don: I am proud to say I am an author.

The majority of my publishingexperience has come from publishing, editing, writing and laying out a magazinecalled “Whatsup Magazine”. It promoted New Brunswick and the rest of theMaritimes to people within the Maritimes as well as sixty five countries aroundthe world for twelve years.

While it did offer me plenty ofopportunity to write and interview interesting people, I became enthralled withwriting after shutting down the magazine. I began a humorous memoir book titledStories I Thought You Would Like in 2020. It is a series of short storiestraveling through the misadventures of two loving brothers from their childhoodto recent days. It is amazing they survived some of the situations that theyfound themselves in. We did though, and I got to write it in to history.

 

 

Scribbler: Are you ready for submissions? Howdoes an author get in contact with you?

 

Don: Indeed, we are ready for submissions. To get in touch with us and me inparticular, simply go to our web site at merlinstarpress.com . Go to the “Submissions” section and read the guidelines thoroughly. Itexplains the whole process. If you feel you fall into our guidelines and areinterested, please, jump right in and start your journey. We’ll be happy towalk it with you.

I should mention here that we do notwant your entire manuscript right away, but that is explained in the guidelines.  

 

 

Scribbler: Can you briefly tell our readers whatis involved in publishing a book?

 

Don: There are a great many steps thatneed to be taken before a book is actually in your hands. My department doesscreening and editing but there are other things that need to be dealt with,not the least of which is keeping the author informed at all times. There arelegal things, designing, printing, site support, promotion, advertising, media,distribution, launches, readings and on and on. Those are some of the thingsthat we worry about for you.

 

 

 

Scribbler: Anything else you’d like to mention?

 

Don: The trip from picking up the pen to opening that first book is a longjourney. It takes more time than most people realize. It can be a year or evenmore from start to finish. Writing takes commitment, organization and work.We’re here to help you through it.

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks for sharing the good news Don. Best of luck to you and your team.

 

  Board of Directors

President.

Warren Redman.

 

Warren writes under the pseudonym of Zev Bagel.

Warren lives in Shediac, where he can look out of his windowonto Shediac Bay – an inspirational setting. His short stories and poems havebeen published in several anthologies, and he is the author of four novels todate: Bernie Waxman & the Whistling Kettle, which was shortlisted for theAtlantic literary awards, Secrets, Solitary, winner of the David Adams RichardsAward, and his latest, The Last Jew in Hania.

As Warren Redman, he has published seventeen books of non-fiction,including the Canadian award-winning The 9 Steps to Emotional Fitness. Many ofhis poems are inspired by the work of his wife, artist Nicole Tremblay.

 

 

Secretary and Co-director of Marketing

Maria Gillespie.

 

Maria Gillespie is a former school principal who has hung up her whistle and put her school bell on the shelf. She no longer writes staff memos and newsletters. Instead, she enjoys creating short stories and poems.  
She is a member of Ice Dash, the Shediac writers' group and the Writers' Federation of new Brunswick.      
She is learning new skills by delving into the business of writing as Director and Secretary of Merlin Star Press, a newly incorporated company on the New Brunswick publishing scene.

Treasurer.

Allan Hudson

 

Allan was born in Saint John, New Brunswick. Growing up in South Branch he was encouraged to read from an early age by his mother who was a schoolteacher. He lives in Dieppe with his wife Gloria. He is an author of action/adventure novels, historical fiction and a short story collection. His short stories – The Ship Breakers: In the Abyss – received honourable mention in the New Brunswick Writer’s Federation competition. He has stories published on commuterlit.com, The Golden Ratio and his blog – South Branch Scribbler.

 

 

 

Managing Editor.

Don Blewett.

 

 

Webmaster.

Bradley Boudreau.

In order to deal with his anxiety Bradley Boudreau started keeping a journal of his thoughts. This exercise turned into poetic surprises and fictional exploration. After submitting works of poetry to competitions and receiving encouraging feedback he decided to embark on writing a novel. His life then pivoted to family growth and software development. His fascination with human behavior and imaginative leaps still intact, he's now taking up the call to adventure and investing in his writing. Bradley's role within merlin star press is focused on our digital presence. He manages our website (www.merlinstarpress.com) and our twitter account (@melinstarpress).  

 

Co-director of Marketing Team.

Rachel Baxter.

Rachel Baxter recently capped a decades-long career as a practicing lawyer and litigator with a foray into writing. A long-time member of the Writers' Federation of New Brunswick, she innocently joined a Shediac writers' group in 2019. They had so much fun together, members discussed starting a publishing company. Rachel is a Board Member and a marketing director of Merlin Star Press.

 

Other Board Members & Executives.

Nicole Tremblay

 

Nicole moved to Shediac in 2009. Inthe previous 30 years I had lived in Ottawa, Calgary, France, England and againCalgary. I have now thrown away my moving boxes.

 

I never in my dreams thoughtthat I would one day call myself an artist. I have no professional trainingother than workshops I have attended over the years. I have always beenattracted to vibrant colours and textures creating things with my hands(calligraphy, soap, candles, collages, dolls) and things that are different).In my mid-forties I started painting with watercolours on 4”x5” cards depictingfanciful fish and flowers. It is not until I discovered acrylic paints and inksmixed with collage that I felt I was home.

 

 

 

Donna Griffith.

 

A retired elementary teacher who enjoys reading and knitting. Exercising and travelling keep her moving. A writing group, the Ice Dash Dozen, has kept her journaling and interested in all things bookish since retirement and widowhood. Several book clubs keep an eclectic bunch of books at her reach. Creative adventures are yet to be experienced!

 

 

Thank you to our dear readers for visiting today. If you are anAuthor from Southeastern New Brunswick, please consider submitting your storyto MSP.

 

www.merlinstarpress.com

The Story Behind the Story with Barb Curtis of New Brunswick, Canada.

 

Let’s welcome another author from our province.

Barb has agreed to tell us about her novels.

 

Read on, my friends.

 

 

 

Ahappily-ever-after-crafter at heart, Barb Curtis’ love for writing began with aquick-witted style column, and her background in marketing led to stintswriting print and web copy, newsletters, and grant proposals. The switch tofiction came with the decision to pair her creativity with her love for words,and crafting characters and settings she could truly get lost in. Barb lives inrural New Brunswick with her husband, daughter, and dog. You’ll find herrestoring the family homestead, weeding the garden, and whistling the same songall day long.

Titles

The Sapphire Springs Series:

Forever With You – Book 1

Only For You – Book 2

Falling For You – Book 3

 

 

Synopsis / Back Cover Copy  

 

Forever With You

 

Jay Wynter wants to besuccessful on his own merit. That's why he left Sapphire Springs and hisfamily's winery to build a career from scratch. But now that he's successor toWynter Estate, Jay must return to his small hometown to face everything, andeveryone, he left behind-especially his high school sweetheart, who happens tobe his stunning new business partner . . .

Leyna Milan knows family legacies come with strings attached, but she'sdetermined to prove that she can run her family's restaurant. Of course, Leynanever expected that honoring her grandfather's wishes meant opening a secondlocation on her ex's property-or having to ignore Jay's sexy grin and guard theheart he shattered years before. But as they work closely together, she beginsto discover that maybe first loves deserve a second chance . . .

 

Only For You

 

After having his heart brokenon national television, Tim Fraser knows only one way to stop the gossip abouthis love life-a new girlfriend. The problem is, he's done with romance forever.A fake relationship with his friend and Sapphire Spring's sweetest baker, EmilyHolland, seems the perfect solution to getting rid of his newfound fame, buttheir fleeting fauxmance is stirring up the kinds of feelings Tim has sworn offfor good.

Emily has secretly lusted after Tim for years, but pretending her feelings areall for show never factored into her fantasy. Still, her decades-long crushmakes it impossible to say no to Tim's proposal. But with each date, the linesbetween pretend and reality blur, giving Tim and Emily a tantalizing taste oflife outside the friend zone . . . if they can find the courage togive real love a chance.

 

Falling For You

 

Just when recently evictedyoga instructor Faith Rotolo thinks her luck has run out, she inherits a historicmansion in quaint Sapphire Springs. Though Faith never imagined putting rootsdown anywhere, small-town life is growing on her, as is her fixer-upper house.If only her handsome new contractor, Rob Milan, would stop spoiling herdaydreams with the realities of a major rehab…and his generally grouchy vibes.

A single dad of two, Rob doesn’t have much time for fantasy wish-list ideas hisclients can’t afford. Then again, Faith’s creative energy might be exactly whathe needs right now. But while Rob and Faith work to give her home the secondchance it deserves, their spirited clashes wind up sparking a powerfulattraction. As work nears completion, and Faith’s house becomes the shiningjewel of the neighborhood, will she and Rob realize that they deserve a freshstart too?

 

Story Behind The Story

 

I wrote the Sapphire Springsseries because they’re the types of books I like to read in order to escape, beit from the bad news in the world, or simply the rat race most of us strugglewith on a daily basis. I take comfort in reading and writing Happily EverAfters, because no matter how much conflict is happening in the story, you canrest assured, knowing the ending won’t disappoint. I’m also a sucker for a goodHallmark movie, and was aiming for that same level of coziness, but withcharacters a little more relatable to me, in that they might mutter theoccasional curse word, drink too much on a Friday night, or (gasp!) kiss beforethe credits roll.

 

 

Website  www.barbcurtiswrites.com

 

 

 

 

Aquestion for you before you go, Barb:

 

Music or Quiet?

Musicis a big part of my writing process. I create playlists for each book – notnecessarily sound tracks, per se, but songs that inspire certain chapters orscenes. I love putting on a pair of headphones and losing myself in the story.I find it hard to concentrate while listening to music with lyrics though,because before I know it, the inner rock star comes out and I’m singing along,forgetting all about what I’m supposed to be writing. What works best for me islistening to instrumental jazz, because it meets the criteria of music that Ilove, but that doesn’t distract.

 

 

Excerpt of FallingFor You (Sapphire Springs Book 3)

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Two months was along time to be off the grid.

An eviction noticeclung to Faith Rotolo’s apartment door by a grimy piece of scotch tape and herkey no longer fit the lock.

Her heart rate surgedas she dug around her purse for her cell so she could call Nick—the friend of afriend whose apartment she’d been staying at before she went to Fiji. Herfingers clasped around the phone. She pulled it out and pressed a button.

Dead.

“Ugh.” Just great.She spun on her heel to race back downstairs, where her car took up the betterpart of two parking spots.

Settling behindthe wheel, she plugged her phone in to the charger, patiently waiting for it tocome to life while the air conditioning washed over her, a respite from themid-August heat. To her horror, it vibrated with notifications and incomingmessages for what seemed like eternity.

A hundred andthree emails?  She glanced at the parkingmeter. The handful of coins she’d shoved into the slot before heading upstairswould only buy her another couple of minutes, and notifications were stillpouring in.

She scrolledthrough her mailbox quickly. Junk mostly, save the occasional email from herfather. And then lo and behold, she found the answer she’d been looking for: Nickhad sent a brief message a month ago. He’d skipped out on the rent—took off togo on tour with his band. She’d need to find a new place to stay when she gotback.

“Ugh, Nick, youflake.” Faith glared upward past the lush elm tree toward the bare second levelwindows. Thank God everything she owned lived in a storage locker in NorthBuffalo. She drummed the pads of her fingers to her chin. It’d be impossible tofind another apartment with the influx of students arriving to begin the fall semesterin a couple of weeks. Either she moved into a hotel until she found a place orshe crashed at her father and stepmother’s house.

A hotel might bemore welcoming.

She moved on tomissed calls and voicemails. Some lady named Maureen Carver, a lawyer inSapphire Springs, had left a message asking if Faith could please contact her.Then there were two more, the urgency factor escalating in each one.

Hmm. Faith tappedher foot and pinched her bottom lip. Her mom had grown up in Sapphire Springs,but other than that, she knew very little about the place. The town had barelybeen spoken of in the twenty-three years since the accident that claimed hermother’s life.

What would alawyer want with her?

Curiosity won outand had her clicking on the lawyer’s phone number instead of looking for ahotel. Her heart rate quickened with each ring.

Surely she wasn’tbeing sued for a yoga injury. She’d made people sign waivers.

Oh! She’d bumpedthat car a few months back. Nudged it, really—didn’t even leave a mark, andshe’d left an apology note with her phone number so they could call herdirectly. Couldn’t be that.

“Maureen Carver.”

Spoken like awoman who meant business.

Faith drew in deepbreath before speaking. “Good morning, Ms. Carver. This is Faith Rotolo. Myapologies for the delay in responding to your messages. I’ve been out of thecountry a couple of months.” That sounded half-assed professional, if she didsay so herself.

The cheeky gerberadaisy on her dusty dashboard bobbed back and forth before Maureen broke into ahearty laugh that continued for several seconds.

“Faith Rotolo. Well I’ll be damned. Ithought you flew the coop, girl.”

The friendly tonehad Faith’s shoulders relaxing. “Sorry about that. I’ve been in Fiji teaching ayoga retreat. Cell phones weren’t permitted.”

“Two monthswithout a cell phone? Sign me up.” Maureen spoke over shuffling papers andringing phones. “In all seriousness though, you became a bit of a fixation forme. I placed bets with the girls at the office over whether you really existed.I even searched for you on social media.”

Seriously? Alawyer creeping her Instagram?

Maureen continued.“Even your father’s receptionist didn’t return my calls. My imagination wentwild. Nobody in your life seemed alarmed over where you disappeared to. Iactually debated filing a police report.”

Okay, if she wasdead in a ditch, somebody would miss her, wouldn’t they? Her father probablywould if he took time out of his busy schedule to notice.

Maybe.

 Maureen gave a hearty laugh. “Anyway, all thatto say that I’m relieved to hear a voice on the other end of the line. You’reprobably busy catching up on personal business, so I’ll get right to the point.Would you be able to come to my office in Sapphire Springs for a meeting?”

Faith drew in abreath. Sapphire Springs had been all but off-limits since the accident. She’dnever been back since. Dad either, as far as she knew. The town held too muchsadness.

Her eyes travelledpast the blinking light on the expired meter, and scaled the low-rise brickbuilding. “I guess so… I mean—”

“I can come toyou, if that’s easier,” Maureen persisted.

And meet where,exactly? The back alley where she’d soon be living amongst pigeons and straycats? A black car pulled up beside Faith’s lime green Volkswagon Beetle. Thedriver laid on the horn and gestured to her parking. Before he sped off, heflipped her the finger.

She shrunk alittle in her seat and eyed the meter reader turning the corner onto herstreet. What prevented her from meeting Maureen other than this prickling dreadover visiting the town where her mom had grown up and being hit with painfulmemories? She didn’t have kids to think about, or a boyfriend to check in with.Not even a cat for crying out loud. “No, I guess I could come to SapphireSprings. I can be there this afternoon.”

 

 

Thank you, Barb, for being our guest this week.Wishing you continued success with your stories.

 

 

 

And thanks to our visitors and readers.

Wow! Ten years for the Scribbler this month.

 

Ten years ago, the South BranchScribbler came into being and what a ride.

 

I have so many things to begrateful for:

#1. My lovely wife, Gloria, whosupports me.

 

Cool & talented guests from allover the world.

 

As of today – 773290 Page Views.

 

Over 400 posts. Mainly Authors andtheir stories.

 

Since the first of thisyear:

Zev Bagel of Shediac. Author

James Fisher of Miramichi. TheMiramichi Reader

Mary Lay of Great Britain. Author

D C Malcom of New Brunswick. Author

Susan Bernhardt of Wisconsin, US.Author

Kayla Geitzler of New Brunswick. Poet/Author

Sonia Nicholson of British Columbia.Author

Bruce Bishop of Nova Scotia. Author

Christopher Sweet of New Brunswick.Author

Susan White of New Brunswick. Author

Mark Scott Piper of California, US.Author

Sarah Butland of Nova Scotia. Author

 

Some artists. Some musicians. Someshort stories - 

Check this one out.

Funeral Food

One of my favourites.

Thank you, thank you, thankyou to my guests, readers & visitors.

More to look forward this year.

 Especially this.

Here’s a few books I enjoyed in thelast year or so and you might want to take a peek at them. And a few I want to read.

Here's a few I haven't read yet but I will very soon.

 Enough for this week.

Join us next week and meet Barb Curtis of  Blackville, NB.

If you are an Author/Poet and want to share your work on the Scribbler, I am scheduling posts for the summer. Contact me at sbscribbler@gmail.com

Here's some reading pleasure for you.

The Story Behind the Story with Zev Bagel of Shediac, NB, Canada.

 

This is not Zev’s first time as a guest on the Scribbler and we hope it won’t be the last. He shared an excerpt from one of his novels – Benny Waxman & the Whistling Kettle. Check it out HERE.

Zev and his artist wife, Nicole Tremblay, were also guests on a joint posting. Please go HERE to see it again.

This week he will share the Story Behind the Story with his latest work.

 

Zev Bagel lives in Shediac, where he can look out of his window onto Shediac Bay – an inspirational setting. His short stories and poems have been published in several anthologies, and he is the author of four novels to date: Bernie Waxman & the Whistling Kettle, which was shortlisted for the Atlantic literary awards, Secrets, Solitary, winner of the David Adams Richards Award, and his latest, The Last Jew in Hania. As Warren Redman, he has published seventeen books of non-fiction, including the Canadian award-winning The 9 Steps to Emotional Fitness. Many of his poems are inspired by the work of his wife, artist Nicole Tremblay.

Title: The Last Jew in Hania. 

 

Synopsis: May 29th, 1944. The last of the 2,300 year old Jewish community of Hania is rounded up. Nazi soldiers load them onto a cargo ship, their final destination Auschwitz. They don’t get far. Just off the coastline of Crete, the vessel is torpedoed and sunk. Every one of the Jewish community is lost. Except for one young woman, Olympia Surmon, and the baby she rescues. The synagogue, Etz Hayyim (Tree of Life), is left in ruins for over fifty years. The Jews are forgotten. Olympia is a lost soul. The baby grows up not knowing who she is.

In January 2010, Judith Hamilton arrives in Crete from her home in Canada, determined to trace the roots of her family, in time to witness an arson attack on the local synagogue. She uncovers the dark truth about the lost Jews of Hania, and becomes embroiled in a mysterious plot that threatens her own survival. Based on real events, The Last Jew in Hania brings new life to a community that perished apart from one survivor.

 

 

The Story behind the Story: When my wife and I visited Hania in Crete some years ago, we came across an old synagogue which had been recently refurbished after a fire, and discovered the incredible history of the Jews of Hania. The story stayed with me. Apart from some archival material and the briefest of information about the tragic events of 1944, I could find nothing substantial that had been written. It was a story that had to be told. We returned to Hania for a longer visit, when I delved more into the atmosphere of the place and its people, and the book gradually emerged. Wanting to bring the Jews of Hania to life, rather than simply relate the tragedy of their loss, I invented a baby, and a contemporary Canadian character, Judith, who returns to Hania to search for the roots of her family. The result is a historical fiction, which I hope serves to honour and celebrate the lives of the Jews of Hania, as well as brings to light the terror of the Nazi regime and the crimes committed in its name; the kind of crimes that, sadly, are being committed to this day in other contexts.

 

 

Website: www.zevbagel.ca

 

 

A question before you go Zev:

Can you tell us about the perfect setting you have, or desire, for your writing? Music or quiet? Coffee or tequila?  Neat or notes everywhere?

 

The setting I write in is perfect for me – it’s like being on a retreat every day. Not that I write every day, or have a specific time that I set aside. It’s whenever the urge (and the inspiration) impels me. I jot down notes on bits of paper that litter my desk. I keep little treats in my desk drawer and nibble away when tension mounts. Sometimes I use the App Coffitivity, which brings up the sounds of a coffee shop, so it’s as though I’m surrounded by other people. Seems to help feeling that others are watching me work!

 

 

Here’s an excerpt:

 

Hania, Crete, Monday, May 29th, 1944

 

Boots clattered on the street below the rabbi’s bedroom window, breaking into his fragile sleep. His small house shuddered as fists beat upon the door. A bombardment of shouts burst upwards. The rabbi began to recite the Shema, the Hebrew prayer.

He heard his daughter Roza, already a widow, go down the creaky stairs. He heard the door open. He heard the contempt in her voice.

“What do you want? Can’t you leave us alone?”

Rabbi Ilias Osmos stirred his bones from his narrow bed. He dragged on his robe, straightened the yarmulke on his head, and opened his bedroom door. Squinting down from the top of the stairs, he saw the German officer looking up at him. Behind the Nazi, Roza clutched her gown around her slender body. More soldiers stood just outside the door.

The officer was pleasant at first; almost apologetic. He sat at the kitchen table, his hat with its shining insignia placed at a right angle in front of him, explaining that he had been instructed to collect the list of names of all the Jews in Hania.

“For our records, you understand.”

“And what will you do with the names?” asked Rabbi Osmos.

“I am simply instructed to collect them for the record.”

“Suppose I refuse to give them to you?”

“I will arrest every Jew I can find and ask them myself. It’s not too difficult; you all live together in this hole.”

“It is not so easy to gather all the names. Where do you expect me to begin? It will take weeks.”

The officer leaned forward.

“Look, you old yid, don’t play games with me. You have everyone’s name written down somewhere. I’ll tear your house down and then the synagogue until I find what I want.”

Bile rose in the rabbi’s chest. He fought back the bitterness. He had been abandoned to this. The community leaders had left him to face these invaders alone. Rabbi Osmos had done his best to placate them. Only a few weeks ago he had attended the funeral of the Nazi consul.

The rabbi swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak, but the German beat him to it.

“And then I will start shooting Jews one by one until you give me the names of every Jewish man, woman, and child in Hania. I will shoot the woman here first. You will be the last. I will start this morning. You have one hour.”

The officer stood, replaced his cap, clicked his heels, and flung out his arm.

“Heil Hitler.”

He turned sharply and strode past Roza, who was flattened against the wall. The rabbi finally exhaled. Two soldiers remained in the house.

The rabbi went to his desk in the corner of the room. He opened the lower drawer, extracted a book. There was one newborn whose name he had not yet entered. He gestured to Roza, who sidled over to him. He whispered urgently.

“Go find Revekka Elhais. Tell her to hide the baby. Tell her the Germans are coming for us.”

Roza’s way was barred by one of the soldiers.

“My daughter must go to find the register with some of the names I do not have. She will be only five minutes.” He turned to Roza.

“Be quick,” he said. “You will find the book under the bimah. Be back here in five minutes.” He prayed she understood.

 

 Zev is one of the Participating Authors at the Greater Moncton Riverview & Dieppe Book Fair on April 22nd, 2023. 10am - 4pm. 701 Coverdale Road, Riverview. He will be there with all his books.

Visit the GMRD website and check out his profile and website.

 

Thanks for being our guest this week, Zev. And for the excerpt. Wishing you continued success on your writing journey.

 

And thanks to you, our visitors and readers.

 

What is the one book you would never do without?

Come meet Editor-in-Chief James Fisher of The Miramichi Reader.

 

If you are a book lover, you need to connect with one of Canada’s major book review web sites - The Miramichi Reader.

Let’s welcome James Fisher – Editor -in-Chief. It’s not James' first time on the Scribbler. A lot has changed since then. I invite you to take a peek at his previous visit HERE.

Let’s chat with James.

 

Scribbler: Thanks for taking the time to be our guest James. When we talked about TMR before, it was in 2018 and you mentioned TMR had been in existence since 2014. What is the one major change during these years of which you are the proudest of?

 

James: I am very proud of the coverage we are able to provide to Canadian book lovers. While I started out with the Atlantic coast publishers and authors in mind, TMR has expanded its coverage nationwide. In addition, I hear great things spoken about TMR from my contacts in the publishing world, which makes me feel good. Blurbs from our reviews can be found on many publisher’s websites, and even in books themselves. I am very happy that TMR grew so organically, and in the process, gained credibility as a trusted source for book reviews.

 

Scribbler: TMR now has many contributors to the site. Can you tell us something about the growth and how do you find reviewers?

 

James: The addition of more reviewers, which really took off during the initial years of the Pandemic, has been wonderful, Allan. Many of these – including some who are authors themselves - were invited by myself, and others stepped forward when I put out a call on social media for more reviewers. I really wanted to cover more of the Canadian publishing scene and I can now boast that we have around 50 reviewers on the team, some contributing more frequently than others, but all are doing a fine work for TMR. One of our reviewers, Carrie Stanton, also doubles as our social media person, and that frees up more time for me to keep the site current.

 

Scribbler: What are important elements in a review?

James: Avoiding spoilers! Seriously, a good review should be balanced, mentioning the positives as well as the negatives about the reading experience. For instance, I recently reviewed a book that claimed to be a “true story” about a certain historical Canadian. However, instead of the expected non-fiction book, it read more like a novel with plenty of invented dialogue. In addition, there was no bibliography or list of references. No photos, nothing that would mark this “true story” as being authoritative. I mentioned all this in my review. I didn’t say that people shouldn’t purchase this book, just be aware of what they are getting.

In addition, a good review should elaborate on the book’s synopsis so that a person reading the review will either be intrigued to buy the book, or think “that topic doesn’t interest me” and move on.

 

Scribbler: You recently started a funding program through Patreon and Ko-fi. Can you give my readers some direction with how they can be an active part of TMR?

 

James: I began looking for funding sources, as up until last year (2022) I was funding all the expenses of TMR out of pocket. As the site grew, I needed to purchase a more comprehensive web hosting package, full versions of newsletter services, and WordPress plug-ins to keep the site running smoothly and looking professional. There are also some postal expenses and so on. I didn’t want to apply for a government grant, as I wanted the funding to come from the readers I knew were out there. I went with Patreon initially, then got onboard with Ko-fi as it easily allows one-time donations of $5 and up. I put a little “tip” button at the end of each post, so that if a reader appreciated that particular post, they could leave a tip. Every little bit helps!

Another great feature of TMR. Go HERE.

 

Scribbler: Anything else you’d like to share?

 

James: In 2022, I tried going the podcasting route as I had been avoiding getting into it for some time. While it was fun to talk to authors on Zoom, it involved a lot of my free time to edit the audio and create an episode that sounded somewhat professional. Eventually, I could see that podcasting wasn’t worth the effort for TMR. It was through our newsletter, social media, and the website that we were reaching the most people. So, I hung up the microphone. One has to try new things, but keeping the status quo is working for us quite well.

 

 

Thank you for being our guest, James. Thank you for the great site.

 

Dear Readers, be sure to visit The Miramichi Reader.

Go HERE.

And thank you to all our visitors.

The Story Behind the Story with British Author Mary Lay.

 

Let’s welcome Mary to the Scribbler.

It’s always a treat to have a guest from “across the pond.”

When you visit her website, you will read this:

“Welcome to the era of Art Deco, Jazz bands and flapper dresses!”

Sounds good to me.

 

 

I grew up in rural Berkshire, then spent over 15 years in Devon and Cornwall before settling for now in the Cotswolds. I taught myself to read and write when I was 4 because I was convinced I would be allowed to go to school if I could do those things. I’ve been writing ever since, though not always stories. I’ve also had a variety of other jobs including a support assistant for an autistic boy, a giftware model maker, proofreader, and digital learning manager. I’m a Royal Horticultural Society trained garden designer, and also have qualifications in agile product development.

Much of my life has had similarities to the Miss Read stories, and they are definitely my go-to comfort novels.

 

 

Working Title: I am in the final proof stages of my third novel, Birds of the Storm.

 

 

Synopsis: It is the third in the series; we are following Caroline as she embarks on a journey of self-discovery through 1920s England. Caroline Munhead has spent two years catching up with her old school friends and taking her first tentative steps as a young woman. Now in 1927 she spreads her wings a little further and finds herself in north Somerset in a rented cottage. A new group of friends and a new set of challenges bring Caroline to an unexpected proposal. Will she make Somerset her forever home? Will a message from beyond the grave prove true?

 Caroline

 

The Story behind the Story: This all started during lockdown in 2019. I would go out for our permitted 30 minutes of exercise and walk the streets of Cheltenham, looking at the buildings and wondering who first lived and worked there. Readers might not know, but Cheltenham is a Regency town, but with housing from different eras radiating out from the centre, and with lots of tree-lined streets and parks. I started to research some of the areas online and as I continued my walks, some of the characters came into focus for me.

I had read some of Elizabeth von Arnim’s novels but couldn’t find anything else in a similar vein. So, I decided to write my own. I wanted something easy to read, a gentle story of ‘normal’ people. I often think of these stories as a historical soap opera. There are occasional big events, but more often than not we are just spectators watching someone else’s life unfold.

Once I started, the first story, Catching Up, flew out of my fingers. Writing at evenings and weekends, it was done in just over 2 months. I couldn’t stop! The characters kept talking to me and I drove on with the second novel, The Price of Coal. That too was completed in 3 months. I took a short break and then continued with the instalment that is due for publication in March 2023, Birds of the Storm. There are two more complete novels, the ideas for number six, and also a companion book of short stories, because some of the minor characters have been rather cross that they didn’t play bigger parts and want to tell their stories too!

The narrative is driven by real events. That’s my starting point when I am thinking about the story first: what actually happened in that year and what effect might it have had on my characters? The event might become a backdrop, or it might influence the story – I’m never entirely sure when I start to write, and it’s not unusual for me to stray completely away from my original plot line as I discover some other true story that I can borrow from.

I pitched to a number of agents and publishers. I received three separate offers of hybrid contracts, but the more I learned about traditional publishing and how I could lose creative control of my work, I decided that I would self-publish. I work with a professional designer, Chandler Design Associates in Norfolk, and John there immediately understood the concept I had for the covers.

I’m under no illusions that I will be able to retire on my book sales alone! I see these novels as an achievement that I never imagined I would have, and a welcome supplement to my retirement plans. Of course, if someone is interested in turning them into a television series I would be interested, but I write mainly because the characters simply will not be quiet.

 

Website: marylaystories.com

A question before you go, Mary:

Can you tell us about the perfect setting you have, or desire, for your writing? Music or quiet? Coffee or tequila?  Neat or notes everywhere?

 

I actually wrote almost all of the five novels so far while sitting on my sofa. I have a very small flat, and no room for a desk – certainly no spare room to use as an office or library. In an ideal world I would have a small house somewhere in a cold country; Scotland, Canada, Scandinavia, somewhere like that. I find the quietness of snow captivating. A room with a desk that looked out onto a garden or countryside covered with snow, a log fire, a comfortable armchair and foot stool, plenty of reference books on the shelves and a small radio. I listen to classical music when I write, or nothing at all. I adore the Russian composers, particularly Shostakovich.

If someone could bring me a fresh pot of tea every hour or so, that would be appreciated. Either a good Assam, or a blend called Russian Caravan. There would be plenty of room for the tea pot as I don’t tend to write notes, though I am known to have piles of things – mostly knitting, books and piles of letters that I need to respond to.

 

 

Thank you for being our guest this week, Mary. Wishing you continued success with your writing.

 

 

And a Grand Canyon thank you to all you visitors and readers?

 

What are you reading?