Allan Hudson's Blog, page 9

The Story Behind the Story with Rhonda Bulmer of Moncton, NB, Canada.

 

The recent launch of Rhonda’s novel was atremendous success.

Hats off to the marketing pros of Merlin StarPress for generating lots of buzz around their first novel.

None better than the dynamic storytelling fromone of the province’s most talented authors.

Let’s welcome Rhonda to the Scribbler.

Read on my friends.

 

 

RHONDA BULMERis a Moncton, New Brunswick-based author with a background in public relationsand freelance writing, and currently serves as executive director for theWriters’ Federation of New Brunswick. She has published three fiction booksindependently, and in 2023, her short fiction appeared in the anthology, Monstersin the Fog, (Partridge Island Publishing). The Widow & the Will (MerlinStar Press, 2024) is her first novel.

 

 

Title: The Widow & The Will

Synopsis: LindyHall has begun a promising career in Toronto with her boyfriend, George. WhenGrandma Runa, her only living relative dies, Lindy receives a shockingbequest—the d’Avray Manor Inn in Harmony Bay on New Brunswick’s Bay of Fundy.

Lindy takes twoweeks off to visit the inn. Locals call it The Widow’s Inn, said to behaunted by the grieving widow of its first owner. She finds herself on acollision course with the proprietors, Tony and Anne Allaby. In the face ofbankruptcy, Anne is bitter. Lindy is sure the couple is holding something back.

When a handsometour operator vies for Lindy’s affections, and the ghost of Elizabeth d’Avrayvisits her, an impatient George urges Lindy to forget it all and come home.

Could Gram’sfinal wishes and The Widow’s Inn be the keys to unlock Lindy’s mysteriouspast—and her future?

 

 

TheStory Behind the Story:I am interestedin family conflict. Nothing can ignite (or worsen) family conflicts more than thefinal wishes in a will, especially a parent’s will. What they have written downcan make heirs feel loved, appreciated, ignored, or hated by the deceased.

My mother comesfrom a family of 12 children, and Mom was named executor of her own mother’swill (against Mom’s wishes). As a consequence, my grandmother’s stipulations putMom at odds with her siblings for many years. I always thought it was quiteunfair of my grandmother to place my mother in this uncomfortable situation foran extended period – 25 years, in fact. And so, in 2014, I began the initialpremise of my book: a will. A young woman from Ontario becomes the sole heir ofher grandmother, who leaves her with an inn on the East Coast. Her grandmothercharges the heroine with a long-term obligation to those who run the inn, forreasons that are not explained. This big reveal is both cryptic andinconvenient.

In the last tenyears, whenever I’ve told anyone the premise of the story I was writing, theyenthusiastically volunteered their own family will story. Money – or the lackthereof – seems to bring out the worst in people.

Along with that,I stuffed all my favourite story elements in the same novel: an old neglectedhistoric inn, with an accompanying supernatural presence (my mom likes ghoststories, too), a love triangle, the gorgeous setting of the Bay of Fundy (whichI think is one of the most beautiful places in the world) mercurial weather,grouchy, eccentric people, and a big family secret. I didn’t realize I hadwritten a gothic novel, until a publisher who heard my initial pitch in 2019put that label on it.

As a lifelong NewBrunswicker, this book is my love letter to New Brunswick. Throughout my life,many people I’ve known left the province in search of better opportunitieselsewhere. However, especially in recent years, I’ve come to the conclusionthat with a bit of determination, we can create our own opportunities here.

Inspiration

Websites        

Rhonda – Go HERE.     Merlin Star Press – Go HERE.

                    Buy the book HERE.

 

 A question before you go, Rhonda:

Scribbler: What is the ideal spot for you when you write your stories? Music in the background or quiet. Coffee or tequila? Messy or neat?

Rhonda: At home, I like to sit not so much at my desk but on the couch with my laptop, near a sunny window. And I like to listen to baroque cello – or even better, rain noises. I do like sitting at a coffee shop, too. Sometimes a couple of hours of people-watching helps to keep the writing fresh.

I am fifty percent neat. I suppose if it’s too messy at home, I’ll go to the coffee shop so I don’t have to look at it!

An Excerpt from The Widow &The Will:

The wind rose sometime in the night. It whipped aroundthe corner of the house and preceded an abundance of rain. Under normal circumstances,the thrum of water on the windowsill would be comforting, but the bang of thewidow’s walk door was more insistent. It opened and slammed shut with every gust of windfrom the window. The latch arm clattered against the groove.

Don’t turn your back to the stairway. Looks likesomething is moving down there in the shadows.

Melinda, stop being ridiculous.

Yeah, okay, Gram. I hear you.

I threw back the patchwork quilt. Maybe grouching outloud would push back the darkness, even if it was all imaginary. “Am I going tohave to do this every night?” Tomorrow was my first day in that tinyoffice and it was important to be fresh.

I opened one of the desk drawers and found a roll ofpacking tape.

Perfect. I pushed a chair against the door and weighedit down with a couple of old-fashioned hardcover dictionaries from thebookshelf in the corner. Then I tore a few pieces of tape and applied them tothe latch.

I stood back to examine my handiwork for a moment.“There. Let’s see you break through that, Mrs. d’Avray.”

I left the light on and climbed back into bed.Comforted by this achievement, my eyes grew heavy, and I drifted away.

In the gentle light of the desk lamp, a woman in adark linen gown with a white collar appeared at the end of my bed, holdingsomething like a photo in her hand. I pulled myself into a tight ball againstthe bed frame. I didn’t want her to grab my feet.

Was she looking at me or through me?

A few tendrils of grey-streaked dark hair escaped herbun, and her face was lined not so much with age, but with sorrow. She pacedthe room before sitting on the edge of my bed. Her shoulders shook as she wept.

“They’re all gone. I’m all alone.”

I heard the words clearly. And I answered her clearly.“I know.

They’re all gone.”

Uncontrollable grief welled up from the centre of mybeing. Was it hers, or mine? Loneliness for Gram and Gramp swept over me. Forthe parents I never had. “I’m all alone, too.”

“What does life mean without them?” The widow’s walkdoor

opened, and moonlight streamed through it. She walkedthrough the door, dropping the photo as she melted into the darkness.

At five o’clock, my eyes snapped open. My pillow wassoaked. I’d been crying in my sleep.

Last night’s steady rain gave way to a dull, overcastsky, but the

wind was still blowing. And I shivered, not just fromthe cold and damp.

That dream…it was a dream, right?

I sat up. Everything was the same as I’d left it—thechair in front of the door, the tape on the latch, and the desk lamp glowed inthe daylight. But I could have sworn the door had banged open. And the woman criedat my bedside, and disappeared up the steps.

Not only had I seen her, I’d felt her. I’dshared her emotions. I

understood them because I had the same ones.

Hey, it was only a dream. Snap out of it!

I had a big day of number-crunching ahead, and Icouldn’t schlep around indulging my grief-stricken night visions.

I dressed, returned the chair to the desk, and torethe tape off the

latch. In the literal cold light of day, don’t youfeel silly? Everything sounded louder in the dark. And who can control whatthey see in their dreams?

As I turned away, the little door burst open behindme.

It slammed with a loud bang! against the wall.

I shrieked, jumped back and stumbled over the bed. Anicy blast of wind hit me in the face. My eyes were locked on the steps, waitingfor something to come through. After a minute, I dared stick my head throughthe doorway. A strong gust of wind whooshed freely throughout the observationdeck.

Glass shards were scattered on the tiny staircase.This morning’s

gale had finally broken through the old, crackedwindow panes, and they crashed to the floor.

There was something else.

Book Launch. April 2024

 

Thank you Rhonda for the terrific tale and for being our guest this week. We wish you continued success with your writing.

 And a Humongous thank you to all out visitors and readers.

The Story Behind the Story for the Anthologies - Spring Paths & Summer Paths (coming soon). Sandra Bunting and Chuck Bowie.

 

Thisweek you will read the SBTS from two talented authors who are part of the Seasonal Collective and contributors tothe Path Anthologies.

Themost recent being Spring Paths.

BothChuck and Sandra have been guests on the Scribbler before and I encourage you tocheck them out.

Sandra HERE&  Chuck HERE.

Readon my friends.

 

 

Sandra Bunting is the author of twocollections of short stories, two poetry books and a non-fiction book besideshaving work included in anthologies and literary magazines. She works as aneditor at the Irish-based literary magazine Crannog, and offers editing andproofreading of manuscripts through her own Gaelog Press. 

 

Chuck is both a writer and an author, witheleven books/novels published. While he mostly enjoys writing mysteries:Suspense-Thrillers and Cozy Mysteries, he also writes short stories. All of hisbooks are well-reviewed, and he has sat on the boards of the Writers’Federation of NB, The Writers’ Union of Canada, is a Fellow of the KingsbraeInternational Residency for the Arts, as well as being acknowledged as a memberof the Miramichi Literary Trail. His thriller series chronicles the adventuresof an international thief for hire, while his cozy series (written as AlexaBowie) follows the adventures of the owner of an arts centre as Emma solves thecrimes that swirl around her centre: The Old Manse. 

Chuck lives in Fredericton and on MiramichiBay.

 

Title: Anthologies.

 

Synopsis from Spring Paths:

Sometimes, a compelling short story is all you need. Let our tales of gods, ghosts, alien worlds, mystery, secrecy, love, loss and horror get under your skin for a while.

Nine North Atlantic writers have collaborated to create this anthology, the third in a series of multi-genre fables that will entertain, possibly unsettle, and cause you to think about the present in which we live.

Curl up on the sofa and allow yourself to be lost in the pages of this fascinating book.

 

The Story Behind the Story

Sandra: Oneof the most evocative images of summer when I was a child was a blue sky, ameadow full of yellow wildflowers – probably dandelions and buttercups - and aclothesline of pristine white sheets flapping gently in the breeze. We all knowthat this description is now generally a thing of the past. Dryers are justmore convenient in our busy lives. But I wanted to work around the idea of a clothesline.My story in the forthcoming anthology Summer Paths, the fourth in aseries put out by The Seasonal Collective, is called Clean Laundry.

Through the story, I wantedto explore several themes. I set it in a rural community and wanted to breakthe myth that country people were old-fashioned. Technological advances are asprevalent in smaller communities as they are in big cities. However, I wantedto see what could happen if one person moved into the community and tried tochange the way things were done.

Reflecting on that themealso brought to mind a memory of being in the company of women when I was alittle girl. I remember one time sitting with them in the kitchen as they spokein horror of “a clothesline thief”.

I usually try to sneak inmention of some issues that I feel passionate about, namely creativity and theenvironment. I feel that it is vital as a human to in some way be creative. Ifeel creativity could help answer some of the world’s problems. Another issueis the environment We are so fortunate to live on this beautiful earth but wedon’t look after it.

Clean Laundry is alight-hearted homage to summer, which also lights on serious topics that can becontemplated at a later time. How do I weave all these themes together? Enterinto summer. Enter into the pages of Clean Laundry.

 

Chuck: When the Spring Paths Melt from Spring Paths.

I had a dream many years ago, where the City ofFredericton flooded. I had gotten a casual job emptying a store basement onQueen St, down by the river during an unusual spring flood. I wondered whatwould happen if the spring freshet hit at the same time as the Grand Falls,Beechwood and Mactaquac dams all breached. Many years later, I added ClimateChange and my recurring dream became a bit of a nightmare.

When I awoke, the simple dream of the entire city beingunder water became a speculation project for me. Would I have a protagonist?Just one? Would they be starving or scavenging? Scavenging, I thought. Wouldthey die (alone)? Or would there be hope? Would it be a cautionary tale ofMan’s foolishness? I didn’t want to do that. Rather, I wanted somethingimmediate, human, and real enough to touch the reader.

I wanted the reader to be in the rowboat with the one whomight be the last human in the region.

So that became the story. But I’ve always been asconcerned—perhaps even more—with the How of the story. How can my characterreview their situation, and then summon the will to get out of bed in themorning? What to they do every day; does every minute, like that of ancientman, have to be about scrabbling for food, warmth, and shelter? How do they putone foot in front of the other, in the hope that things will get better, whenit probably won’t?

But that’s how the human race managed to survive, isn’tit.

So I wrote a story about a brave young man who hoped thatthings would get better. He did the little things to engender optimism withinhis soul. He measured, daily, the height of the water above a specific rooftop.He checked his shoreline every day, placing a rock at the water’s edge andnoting where the waterline had previously been. He got out of bed each morning.And he hoped.

Readers sometimes ask me how I make my stories come tolife. One of the responses I offer is to explain that I watch the details of myday, and note how the details enrich the story; make it real. Remember how Itold of emptying a flooded basement of a downtown shop? I was up to my chest inwater, carrying boxes, and I walked past a light switch, three inches above thebasement water. And then I looked up at the bare ceiling bulb illuminating mywork. And then back to that almost-flooded switch. See? It is those detailsthat add a bit of zest to my stories. Sure, I destroy three dams, but I alsoplace a rock at the waterline. Just to give you hope.

 

Websites.      Sandra    Chuck 

 The Scribbler recently posted the STBT for other contributors to the Anthologies. Check them out if you like.

Angela Wren

Gianetta Murray

S C Eston

Pierre Arseneault

You can get your copy of Spring Paths ( and theothers) HERE.

 

Thank you both, for being our guests and sharing yourinspiration for the short story contributions to the Anthology. We wish youcontinued success with your writing journeys.

 

And a HUGEthank you to our dear readers and visitors. We do it all for you.

The Story behind the Story with Tina Lalonde of Ottawa, ON, Canada.

 

 Let’s welcome Tina to the Scribbler.

She is sharing the SBTS for her bookand wants to tell us all about it.

Read on my friends.

 

 

 

Hey there and welcome to Done For You Journals. My name is TinaLalonde. I am an Amazon Publishing Strategist and the owner of Done ForYou Journals dot com.

I help women in the health and wellness industry such as coaches,counselors, course creators, yoga instructors, and the woo woo’s make passiveincome creating and self-publishing their own custom branded journal, workbook,or logbook to sell on Amazon for FREE! However, once you learn the process ofcreating and self-publishing, you will be able to self-publish that book you’vebeen procrastinating on. You know the one, it’s on your bucket list 😉

 

For those who are curious about me when I’m not working…

·      I play competitive women’s volleyballand Pickleball, while myknees can still take it. lol If you don’t know what pickleball is, check out Henry Burrison CTV News Ottawa to see what it’s all about.

·      Ilove to travel to the Caribbean during the winter because well, not a big fanof the cold. My favorite place is St Lucia.

·      Myfavorite drink is sparkling wine is Segura Viudas Brut Reserva Cava…mmmm soooo good.

·       I live in Ottawa, Ontario with my amazing manwho will be referred to as “Bebe”.

·       I like to go second hand shopping, but don’ttell Bebe. He hates when I go there. He says they all have bed bugs. lol

·       I’m a TV show binge watcher. I don’t like towait for next week. My favorite one is Rizzoli & Isles, and Bosch.

·       Love horseback riding. When the horse gallops,I have this huge smile like a kid.

·       Favorite music is new country, dance musicfrom the year 2000, Socca and I love the song from Shakira “Waka Waka”. I cryevery time I hear it.

·       I love playing minute to win it gameswith my friends. I usually win😉

·      Love to eat ethnic food. My favoriteis Vietnamese, then Indian, Thai, and Greek…

·      Liketo try new recipes that take less than 30 minutes to make, but I admit I make amess. So, if you come for dinner, you have to help clean up. Oh and bring BRUTsparkling wine as that’s my favorite.

·       I speak French. Ou est la toilet. Lol. Seriously, I am fluent in French.

·       I didsynchronized swimming when I was 10 years old and one 1st place. Ican still hold my breath under water for 45 seconds…maybe 30 seconds now.

·       I wrote 2 booksand have a few stories published in other people’s books.

·       I am also workingon learning Spanish so that when we retired and travel, I’ll be able to have aconversation.

 

Title: How to Create and Self-Publish Your First Book on Amazon in Less than aDay!

 

Synopsis:  What if I could show you that getting published is not as complicated as people make it out to be, or at least to get on the biggest platform like Amazon!

In this book you will learn the 4 simple things you need to go from dreamer to being published on Amazon!

I’ve been where you are. Wanting to know how to become published, but not sure where to start. Well, this book is a step-by-step instruction for how to create your first book with a project of a journal. Once you get this book project down, the process is the same for any type of book. By the end of reading the book, you WILL be a Published Author on Amazon!

The Story Behind the Story: Have you ever gone to the bookstorelike Chapters or Barnes and Nobles and was hoping to find the book you needed?Mine was a book on learning how to rent out your cottage in Canada.  I bought a cottage in 2013 and wanted to rentit out to make extra money when I wasn’t using it.  I loved that little cottage!

Isearch Chapters, local libraries, and through dozens of online websites andfound a few books about owning a cottage, but nothing really on how to rent it,what the rules are, and how to make money from it, where to advertise. After afew months, I didn’t find the book I was looking for.

Ireally wanted or rather needed to rent my cottage to help pay the mortgage, butthe information out there was all over the place and I was gettingfrustrated.  After doing all the researchI thought to myself “if I’m searching for this information, maybe someone elseis too?”.  I thought about just creatinga website and linking the pages to the rules, where to advertise, etc. sopeople would be able to find it quickly, but that still meant there was no bookout there.  Then, I stumbled on a bookthat talked about how to get paid for what you know. This gave me the idea to writea book about what I know. And that’s when I decided to write my first book -  Turn Your Cottage Into Money: How to rentyour cottage and make a profit in Ontario and Quebec.

However,that was just the first part. Now I needed to learn about getting it published.I searched online on how to publish a book. I didn’t want to go the traditionalpublishing root because they take longer and they own the rights to my book! Also,they could tell me how to write it and what I could and could not add to thebook. No thanks!

Icame across a course on creating and self-publish journals and get them onAmazon. I thought “wouldn’t that be the same thing as publishing a book?” Ialso thought “I am always writing in journals, so why not create my own andmake money instead of giving my money away”. So, I signed up to learn about creatingjournals and self-publishing on Amazon and published my first book in 2003 andthen, created my first journal in 2004 and have been creating them for myself andclients ever since. I love creating journals and workbooks! 

 

Mygoal is to help 1,000 entrepreneurs who have a journal or workbook they want toturn into a book and publish it on Amazon!

 

If you’re a DIY kind of person like me, I create an online course that teaches what’s in the book, plus so much more. I provide templates for the interior and cover. It’s almost like I’m hand holding, but without me being there. My course is called DIY Self-Publishing Bootcamp and you can find it HERE. 
Anyone who messages me to sign up in the next 30 days, I will offer the DIY Self-Publishing Bootcamp to them at 50% OFF, which is $99 (Value $199) plus…they will get a 1 hour coaching session with me (value: priceless).

Quote “ScribblerDIY24”.

Website: Please go HERE.

 

A question before you go, Tina:

 

Scribbler: What is the ideal spot for you when you write your stories? Music in the background or quiet. Coffee or tequila? Messy or neat?



Tina: Wow, well, that’s a good question. When I was first creating the How to book, I would go every morning to Starbucks at 7am on Saturday and Sunday morning because I needed a different space with no distractions. I would order a medium vanilla Bean Latte, sometimes the almond croissant, and I would put a headset on so people wouldn’t talk to me. However, when I needed a break, I would look around and start talking to random strangers. This gave me the distraction I needed, but also the push to get back to work😊

Another way, I love a good glass or 2 of chardonnay or cab sauv wine, and when I need to get shit done, I pour a glass and go up to my office and set a timer for 30 minutes and do the thing I have to do. Sometimes, I have to go back down to fill it again, as I did when writing this bio.

I don’t do well if there’s a lot of people talking, or music because as I’ve gotten older, my brain doesn’t multitask anymore☹. I like seeing people talking or walking, but I need quiet time.



Thank you for being our guest this week, Tina.

We wish you continued success with your writing. 

And a BIG thank you to all out visitors and readers.
Please leave a us a comment. And if you do, please put your name in the comment box if the system makes you reply as Anonymous. 

The Story Behind the Story for the Anthology - Spring Paths. Angela Wren & Gianetta Murray of Great Britain.

 I have the tremendous, good fortuneto be part of the Seasonal Collective and as a group we are extremely pleasedto have Angela and Gianetta, both fine authors, as part of the Collective.

Together with seven others, we havecontributed to the Anthology, Spring Paths.

Read on my friends and learn more.

 

 

Angela Wren is an author, actor, and has worked as a director ata small theatre a few miles from where she lives in the county of Yorkshire in theUK.  She has always loved stories andstory-telling – no matter what the media. So, having ditched her full-time and very pressured job in businesschange and project management, it seemed right to try her hand at creativewriting.

Starting with short stories, one ofher earliest pieces was published in an anthology which was put together by themagazine ‘Ireland’s Own’ in 2011.  Shehasn’t looked back since, going on to create many more short stories in, theMiss Moonshine, the Dark World, and the Seasonal Paths series of anthologies,along with stories for the UK Crime Book Club Group on Facebook.  She also has a successful cosy crime seriesof full-length novels set in the Cévennes and featuring her privateinvestigator, Jacques Forêt.

 When she’s not writing, Angela likes to spendas much time as possible each year travelling in France.

 

 

Gianetta Murray was a librarian, technical writer, and knowledge manager forover forty years on two continents before she hung up those hats in 2022 tofulfill her dream of being a writer.

SpringPaths was her first publication, followed quickly by a collection of humorousparanormal stories called A Supernatural Shindig. Her first novel, Moved toMurder: A Vivien Brandt Mystery, will be published in June 2024 by TroubadorPress, and she is currently working on a story for a mystery anthology as wellas the second of the Vivien Brandt mysteries (and, of course, a story for theupcoming Summer Paths anthology).

Besideswriting, she enjoys walks in the English countryside when the weather allows,and when it does not (which is often) she binges on TV mysteries, Hollywoodmusicals, and rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She is also a willing slavefor two very demanding cats.

 

Title: Spring Paths

 

Angela’sSynopsis:  Madame Beauvary’s Curio Shop is a mystery that is not quitewhat it seems.  Set in 1983, The actiontakes place in the village of Beauregard in central France.

 

Gianetta’sSynopsis: Demeter hashad just about enough of her bossy brother Zeus, but when he reveals her recentactions might very well doom the Earth, she realizes she must once again takean interest in human affairs. Unfortunately, godly affairs always seem to getin the way…

 

Angela’sInspiration: In spring a couple of years ago I wastaking a few days out in a small town on the Lincolnshire coast.  Whilst there I discovered a bizarre antiqueshop - one of those places where every inch of shelving, wall and ceiling spaceis jam-packed with stuff that no-one needs or wants.  I jotted down some notes about thelocation.  The more I thought about theshop, the more I realised it needed an eccentric and mysterious owner.  A couple of months later and Madame Beauvarybecame a fully formed character.  Her backstory took various twists and turns before I was happy with it and the mysterystory in the Spring Paths collection developed from that.

That short story is not the end ofMadame B!  There is a history to her thathas yet to be fully revealed and I will be letting readers know more about herin the new series of cosy crime mysteries that I am developing.  News about that will be on my blog – so watchthat space!

 

Gianetta’sInspiration: I joined anall-female online writing group and early last year the leader posed the themeof ‘spring’ as a writing exercise. Having adored Greek mythology sincechildhood, I immediately thought of the story of Demeter and how she controlsthe seasons on Earth. I was tickled by the idea of writing a story about godswho were really incredibly human, and maybe also tying in a bit about climatechange—but, you know, in a fun way!

The storythen sat there until a fellow author asked me to join the collective behind thePaths anthologies, and the fact that the next issue was Spring Pathsseemed like, well, a godsend! 😊

Angela’swebsite – please go HERE.

Gianetta’s website– please go HERE.

 

 

A questionbefore you go ladies:

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

Angela: I’m lucky enough to have a writing shed of my own.  It’s the smallest bedroom at the back of myhouse.  The window looks out over thegarden, which is not massive but is neatly planted and over by the fence at thebottom is a small apple tree that is surrounded by a mass of snowdrops in earlyspring.

When I’m working in there with all my books – and I haveloads and loads of those – the world could explode I wouldn’t know athing!  Having spent a lot of time inopen-plan offices, I’ve developed the art of completely shutting out allperipheral noise to focus on whatever I’m doing.

As for sustenance whilst I’m there, I mostly drink waterduring the day.  But black coffee isessential for early morning starts and chocolate – in any form be it biscuit,cake, in a mug or whatever – feeds my brain when I run out of words.

 

Gianetta: A quiet room with a view of the garden, a chai latte at hand, and theday’s housework done, so I can focus purely on the writing! :)

   

Get you copy HERE.

Thank you both for taking the time toshare your inspiration for Spring Paths.

I know you both hard at work for the nextanthology – Summer Paths – due for publication in August/September.

 

And thank you dear readers andvisitors for stopping by today.

Feel free to leave a comment and if you do, please add your name in the comment box ifthe silly blog only lets you use Anonymous. (A glitch I can’t fix.)

The Story Behind the Story with author Raymonde Savoie of Moncton, New Brunswick, Canada.

 

Let’s welcomeRaymonde to the Scribbler.

It is her firstvisit as our guest and we  are happy toshare the SBTS of her novel.

Read on myfriends.

 

 

Raymonde Stella Savoie was born in July of 1952 andgrew up on the family farm in Saint-Maurice, New Brunswick. Surrounded byforests and streams, she learned the language of trees and wildflowers as ateenager, the skills of which were put to good use when she obtained her PlantScientist Diploma later on in life.

An avid reader and journal keeper since the age ofsixteen, Raymonde escaped into the written word whenever she could. This led toa fascination with her night dreams, which she also recorded faithfully.Growing an extensive repository of inner stories became second nature,initiating a search for self-knowledge. Thus, she found her own unique writingvoice to provide an outlet for her discoveries.

Her first book Dreaming The Child Self Whole is theresult of several years of those discoveries, both exhilarating anddevastating, but all necessary for the growth Raymonde’s unconscious demandedthrough her dreams. She lives in Moncton, NB, and is now working on her secondmemoir, along with creating abstract art pieces and art journals to containmore recent dreams. 

 

 

Title: Dreaming the Child Self Whole

 

Synopsis: I’m not usually radical, so I guesswriting this book has been the most radical action of my whole life. Thismemoir speaks for me because I couldn’t speak up whilst, at the age of six andseven, I was being sexually abused. Since then, my dreams have guided me on asometimes crooked, sometimes straight, path toward finding peace and healing Icould not have imagined at the time. This book is the culmination of years ofjournaling and dreams that kept me from unravelling at the seams.  

This memoir may speak for others who have undergone the same sufferingand never told anyone about it, as I delayed telling for lack of courage,support and opportunity. May it be different for the reader!

May the girl and woman who reads this have the courage to reach out andseek help when she needs it. For she must realise and truly believe: she is notalone.

 

The Story Behind the Story: When Iresearched “healing from childhood abuse,” I found a number of brave souls whohad written their story on how they had dealt with the devastatingafter-effects commonly suffered by abuse survivors. My journey thus far hadbeen full of denial and addictions, but when it came down to my book’s subject,I knew from the start that it had to be about dreams, first and foremost, orelse the whole project would be for naught.

My journey from being a hard, aggressive person to an empathic artisttook eleven long years of alternatively fighting and accepting my dreams,labouriously journaling my childhood pain and transforming it all into thewritten words to which I hoped my readers would relate.  Judging from the multiple responses to mybook, many women do relate, even if they have not gone through this exactexperience. 

Dreams have always fascinated me and though I knew they were importantwhen I started writing my story, I didn’t realise just how much until anearth-shattering revelation came from being able to understand the recurringdream that had haunted me all my life. This dream informed me of apsychological condition – a complex – that had been with me since the abuse,but of which I had been until then, totally unaware.  This momentous event catapulted me into deepresearch, deciphering my dreams, studying analytical and archetypal psychology,art therapy, and doing divination with feminine-based cards. With all my energyconcentrated into one sphere of occupation, I endeavoured to write a book aboutmy experience and understanding dreams as symbols of deep transformation. Thebook, and my dreams, changed my life, and healed me in profound, unconsciousand positive ways, for which I am truly thankful.   

 

Website: Please go HERE.

 

 

A question before you go, Raymonde:

 

Scribbler: What is the ideal spot for you when you write your stories? Music in the background or quiet. Coffee or tequila? Messy or neat?

Raymonde: When I’m writing in my studio, I have the choice between a computer table, an art table or a journal table. I can sit at all three in one day to compose a story, work on a painting, or jot nots for a chapter. I find that moving around my studio gives me inspiration and helps change perspective on whatever I’m writing or working on at the time. It has to be early morning and quiet, with only the wild birds in my backyard for vocal company. No caffeine, just rooibos tea, and I have piles of books, notes and scribblers everywhere. So yes, my studio’s a bit messy. This is my world, my writing, art world.


An Excerpt from Dreaming the Child Self Whole, from Chapter 17.

I can put on a brave front when I want to.I’ve gotten good at the art of duplicity, being and feeling one thing on theinside while exhibiting a totally false façade on the outside. This is how Isurvive now. My unconscious twins thrive in this environment of make-believeand wishing and hoping, but their nefarious influence is slowly gnawing at myinsincerity as a Ground Hog does at spring roots.

Unbeknownst to me consciously, I am goingthrough a psychic shift as I sit every morning to write. Most of the time, I’min a frenzy to get my message out. Words and sentences surge up from thedepths, only slightly hinting at the still-unresolved anger buried there, butwhich I ignore steadfastly. I can’t afford to unleash anything volatile lest itcome between Peter and I. My old friend denial holds back the flood, protectingmy ego from the knowledge of not living my authentic self’s desires, and it sitsthere like a hardened cap on an old volcano. Then, at times, I find I can’twrite a single word. Little by little, the purpose for my book – to tell mystory – which originally got me started at this project in the first place hasmorphed into an obligation to fund our dream of building an earth house. Thestory I’m writing has taken on too many generalities, inclusive of others’stories, which act as a blanket to suffocate my own. Or is it to obliterate italtogether?

Thank you, Raymonde, for being our guest this week. We wish you continued success with your writing.

And thanks to all out readers and visitors.

Please feel free to leave a comment and if you do – note that sometimes you may have to post your comment Anonymous and if so, please add your name in the comment box, after the comment so we will know who did it.

The Story Behind the Story with author Dianne Pennell of New Brunswick, Canada.

 Let’s welcome Dianne to theScribbler. 

She is sharing the SBTS of her novels and we are extremely pleased tohave her as our guest this week.

 Dianne will be participating in the GMRD BookFair in July and we hope to see you there. 

Read on my friends.

 

 

 

Iwas born and raised in the beautiful province of Newfoundland where the heartof storytelling is well known.

Igraduated from nursing with honors and been awarded.  It had taken me to the province of NewBrunswick where I worked as a Director of Nursing for Veterans.

Inbetween, my immense energy guided me to further my knowledge into the world offitness. I trained and became a fitness instructor  with the YMCA, Sir Wilfred College, andForever Young Fitness , promoting wellness.

Fitnesslike writing is still a major part of my life to competing in races,triathlons, doathlons, marathons with many medals, ribbons, and trophies toshow.

Ireceived during that timing my First Aid, First Responder training  to teach many classes enhancing care for individuals in need.

Ihave and will always be a story teller, a story writer. It is a passion fromchildhood and with life experiences, it lead me to writing novels in the formof series whereas I am completing my series and starting a new one.

Ienjoy long stories leaving each book to be 500+ pages of pure enjoyment!

 

 

 

Title:   TRUTH BEHIND THE LIES

TheSecond Book in the series is titled: SECRETS AND VENDETTAS

TheThird and final book of this series is in the finishing stages of writing.

 

Synopsis:

TruthBehind the Lies

Julie Collins has always longed fora true family and hopes to expand her marriage happiness with a child. But her husband, Mike, has become increasingly career-driven, uninterested incomplicating their lives with a baby. With Mike now almost entirely absent fromtheir home, Julie begins to suspect more could be going on than she firstthought, and her life isn't quite as on track as she had hoped.  Herdetermination not to give upon her dreams of motherhood has unintendedconsequences, and Julie is flung into an unexpected encounter with friendshipand, perhaps, a chance at a family.  As her perfect future draws nearer,her past begins to close in;  can anyone truly escape from the lies oftheir past

 

Secretsand Vendettas

The light of Julie’s soul isfading. One pain too many; one more loss to endure. Julie, herself, is fadingfrom reality. She lies dormant below the fire of rage, hate, and revenge. Yes,that’s where Julie has gone, and no longer able to awaken from its burningcontrol. The shell of the old Julie can be deceiving as she carries on lifewithout anyone knowing her secret. Only the fire can disguise her that way. Thenew Julie has only one focus, revenge on her once believed mother. Flames runthrough Julie’s veins; she begins to lie and plot, only to have her day ofpayback to see her mother trampled to dust. Yet, how far will this fire Juliego, and to what lengths will be taken when the unexpected challenges face?

Samantha,once believed to be an enemy, becomes a trusted soulmate when they are drawntogether by a force neither can explain. Unknown to the other, both suffered aschildren only to live with revenge of payback to the ones that caused it. Nowtwo women are left with the same fire burning: controlling their every move.

How farwill they go to remove the stain of the past from their lives while riskinglosing of what’s precious to both. What are they willing to let go, just tohave that day.

 

 

The Story Behind the Story:

Thatis a question which takes me on different avenues  to give a true answer. “What” inspired thewriting of this series.

Iwas at the end of a 25k run in training for a marathon. As I passed theHospital on my route, I came  upon agroup of men and women holding signs as they marched back and forth the sidewalk  leading to the entry of thehospital.  I read the signs, askingsimple to say a life that could not speak for itself. To give a chance to lifeand then allow that life to breath, to walk, maybe run like me. Allow a lifethe opportunity to experience , feel, and give love. Maybe that life not to beperfect, but at least a chance to find out.

Ifelt  a caring, a mission, as theyprotest for what they believed in without fear. Then it came to me, what if ,in one of my stories, a young girl not wanting to lose the life of her baby,had that life cruelly taken from her and the consequences arisingthereafter.  Maybe we don't know whatgoes on inside the life of another. Maybe we don't know what the reason is itcould happen.  Maybe they simply not wantthe life inside them, but why. Then I realize life can be taken in manydifferent ways. What happens  whenmotherly love is taken without warning, without guilt, or with guilt. Whathappens  to the child, the youth, theadult in the end when never to find it. What happens to young girls thatsomehow are found to travel one of those paths. And so , my story begins to follow the lives of  two women, searching for that motherly love.Searching for a reason and in the end what they would sacrifice to finding it.

 

 

Website: Go HERE.        

 

A question before you go, Dianne:

Scribbler: What is the ideal spot for you whenyou write your stories? Music in the background or quiet. Coffee or tequila?Messy or neat?

Dianne: After a good workout, a longrun, a morning of skiing  and swimming, Ifind my way home, where I like to be allow in my house office. Silence, cup of ChaiTea, and nothing to distract.  I sit, andfor some reason, it happens, words begin to flow. A story line takes place. Thepleasure of writing leaves me enchanted as I watch what is overflowing in mythoughts to dance across the keyboard. That stimulation of the mind's wanting to unload the stories that builtup begins the moment I  start my workout,speeding my endurance to get home and begin. Oh yes, I'm in heaven in front ofmy computer as my fingers dance across the keys and  my ears plays the tune of the many neverending stories waiting to be released just for everyone to enjoy and themselvesget lost in a world of a story I created for them.

 

An Excerpt from Truth Behind the Lies:     (Epilogue)

 

Constantly, we search forthat feeling, the one we cannot survive without.  If for any reason, wecannot find it our longing for it will keep us searching. It haunts our innersouls until the day comes that we have found it.

Thatlonging is inside each one of us, pushing until we find satisfaction. What isthis feeling! Will it give stability, peace or happiness?  

Yet,having it, and suddenly taken from you, why is it then, you remembered how itfelt?

Itis always through that moment of loss that you truly understand the feeling.

Itis one with pain, and it is one with pleasure.

Strangeis this want, the need is desperate, yet never to understand the complexity ofwhat it holds to maintain survival?

Wesearch until it becomes our greatest craving. The most exhilarating one a humanbeing can feel.

Simply,it is love.

 

 

 

Thank you for being our guest, Dianne. We wish you continuedsuccess with your stories.

 

And thank you to our visitors and readers. It’s all for you! 

Please leave a comment. 

AND IF YOU DO, you will have to do it as Anonymous so put your name after the comment in the comment box so Dianne & I will know who it is from. Thank you.

The Story Behind the Story with Rick Revelle of Napanee, On, Canada.

This week you get to meet Rick and heis sharing his SBTS for all you visitors.

Rick will be joining us in July atthe GMRD Book Fair and I’m looking forward to meeting him.

Read on my friends.

 

 

Rick's early years were spent in Wilton and Odessa Ontario. He lived for 32 years in Glenburnie Ontario and since 2019 in Napanee, Ontario.

He is the author of four Historical Fiction books and one fiction novel. 
I Am Algonquin (2013), Algonquin Spring (2015), Algonquin Sunset (2017) were published by Dundurn Press. Algonquin Legacy and The Elk Whistle Warrior Society by Crossfield Publishing.

The Algonquin Quest series takes place on both sides of the St Lawrence River Valley and the Great Lakes and to the Rocky Mountains during the years of 1320 to 1350’s. It follows an Algonquin Native family unit as they fight to survive in the harsh climate of warfare, survival from the elements and the constant quest for food of this pre-contact era. His readers are introduced to the Algonquin, Anishinaabe, Lakota, Mi´kmaq, Mohawk, and Lakȟóta, languages as they are used in the vernacular in the four novels.

The Elk Whistle Warrior Society is about a secret society of Native women who hunt down human traffickers and murderers of Native women and abusers of Native children. All the women have either a masters or PhD degree and a Martial Arts black belt. They do not use guns, only the weapons of their ancestors.

 

Title: The Elk Whistle Warrior Society

 

 

Synopsis: The Elk Whistle Warrior Society (2023) is about a 650 year old Native women secret society. They have always been protectors of Indigenous women and children. They have always hunted down human traffickers and murderers of Native women, plus the abusers of Native children. The women all have either a PhD or master’s degree, plus a Martials Arts black belt. They do not use guns, only the weapons of their ancestors. They are aided by selected male warriors and the legendary Memegwesi warriors who are the Little People and the protectors of children.

All the women have a tattoo of two blue feathers on their right shoulder and the men have the tattoo is found on their left calf.

 

 

The Story Behind the Story: I have written five books. My firstbook was published when I was 61 years old. Each of my books have strongIndigenous women. My previous four books were a series called The AlgonquinQuest Series that followed four Omámiwinini (Algonquin) brothers during theearly 1300’s pre-contact. The books are I Am Algonquin (2013), Algonquin Spring(2015), Algonquin Sunset (2017) and Algonquin Legacy (2021). During the writingof the final book, I wrote in the beginnings of a Native woman’s society. I wasvery excited about what I could do with this idea. As soon as Algonquin Legacywas finished then published,

I had The Elk WhistleWarrior Society almost done. My publisher Tina Crossfield liked the story, andI sent it out to a dozen women across Canada for a pre-read. All the responsesfrom these women were that they really liked the premise and the strong women.One lady who is an actress said she wanted to make a TV series out of the book.I now have a Shopping List contract with her to produce the book into the TVseries in the USA.

 

Website: Go HERE.

A question before you go, Rick:



Scribbler: What is the ideal spot for you when you write your stories? Music in the background or quiet. Coffee or tequila? Messy or neat?



Rick: I do my best writing long hand. I have always found that when I write this way my pen can keep up with the quickly flowing ideas that are streaming out of the file cabinets in my brain. I have a favourite bar here in Napanee where I have written two books, my 4th and 5th. Plus, now working on my 6th. I love writing on the train or when we go on a cruise, always longhand. When I write long hand in scribblers, I usually write about twenty-five pages in a session. Once I get home, I can turn these twenty-five pages into fifty or sixty when I add dialogue and do my research.

When I write at home, I brew a carafe of green tea with sage and lemon added, plus about five tea bags. I close my office door, then write until my kidneys almost explode. While writing in my office, I am surrounded in a world of battles, hunts, smells, noise, and everything else that I am creating.

I have always found that I am much more relaxed transposing from my scribblers into my computer. The long hand notes are sometimes 4 to 6 weeks old and many times when I read what I wrote I get excited about the notes. Usually, I have forgotten what I had written and when I re-read the pages it gives me an injection of adrenaline to continue with the book.





An Excerpt from THE ELK WHISTLE WARRIOR SOCIETY:

 

TUESDAY LUNCH

 

 

I wastwelve years old in the summer of 1959. It was the first week of July and it was hot. Having just finishedcutting two lawns in the town next to our reservation, I had $4 in my pocketfrom my morning’s labour of six hours. Looking down at my sneakers, I saw thatthey were green from the juices of the dewy grass. I had bought the lawnmowerin the spring with money made trapping muskrats and beaver that winter. I knewI smelled like gasoline and fresh cut grass, but my work was done for this dayand my stomach was growling.

       Parkingmy lawnmower on the lawn in front of the big windows of the café, I made surethat the bungee cord that held my gas can on the deck of the mower was secure.Checking to make sure I still had the eight quarters and two one-dollar billsin my small, beaded change purse, I walked up to the door and peered in at theclock; 2:10 in the afternoon. Next, I checked out the large hand-printed signin the window:

 

WESERVE INDIANS HERE MONDAYS TO THURSDAYS FROM 2 TO 4 PM

 

Good! I was in the time frame that I couldget served.

       Theslight breeze coming from the south caused the overhead oval sign hanging bychains to emit an eerie creaking sound. Dabs of rust pocketed the whitebackground of the sign, faded blue lettering seeped through the patina tosilently announce Judi’s Café.    

When I opened the door,the warning bell rang and I hurriedly clambered into the booth where I couldwatch over my mower and still see the soft pinelunch counter where eight stools were lined along the counter. They were chromewith red leather seats, matching the leather seats in the booths. I was theonly customer in the place.

       Theowner, a scum bag, who we called the Toothless Wonder, came over and growled atme, “What do you want today, Buck?”

       “CanI have a hot dog and fries,” I answered.

       “Yep,if you have the money to pay ahead of time. You know the rules, Injuns pay upfront!”

       Itook a dollar and twenty-five cents out of my pocket. When I gave it to him, Isaid, “I also want a coke and a banana split.”

       Hewiped his nose with his apron. “Coming right upInjun Boy.”

       Iglanced out the window, keeping a close eye on my lawnmower. A Native guy who Ihad never seen before walked into the restaurant, announced by the bell on thedoor, and sat on the end stool near the cash register. He had shorts on with atattoo of two feathers on his left calf and wore a tee shirt that said Warrioron it. Huge biceps rippled when he moved his arms. His hair was cropped in abrush cut, definitely residential school upbringing. He looked Blackfoot, nomeanness in his eyes, just a sense of purpose. A roll of duct tape, a hatchetand a knife hung from his belt.

       Theowner came over and said, “I have never seen you before, and I know all theInjuns around here. What do you want?

       “Icame to handle some business in town and then taking the 3:04 train east. I’llhave two cheeseburgers and a Fanta orange drink.”

       “Moneyup front, Red Man.”

       Theguest paid with a two-dollar bill, looked the Toothless Wonder in the face andjust smiled.

       Myfood came along with 5 cents change which I put in the jukebox to play myfavourite song Lonely Teardrops, byJackie Wilson. The food had only cost $1.10 but the scum bag kept a dimefor himself.

The dog had mustard andonions on it and I put a big dab of ketchup on my plate to dip my hot dog andfries in. The food calmed my nerves down and I had to keep wiping the mustardfrom my face as it drippled down my chin. I loved onions and when one fell fromthe bun, I would stuff it into my mouth with my fingers. My hands were dirty.The Toothless Wonder wouldn’t let Indians use his washroom to wash up or topee.

       Ifinished my dog and fries washed down by the ice-cold coke and he brought me mybanana split. I looked at the clock, 2:31.

       Thebell above the door rang again, and in walked a tall Native woman dressed inshorts with a tank top and a tattoo like the Blackfoot man, except it was onher right shoulder. She looked Anishinaabe, but not from around here. Her hairalso had the residential school cut. From her waist hung two knives, one on each hip. As she walked by me, Icaught a whiff of perfume, soft and spring like. Lilac. She sat three stoolsdown from the Blackfoot man.

       “WellPocahontas, what can I do you for,” sneered theToothless Wonder.

       “Aginger ale, I have to catch the 3:04 train and haven’t got time to eat.”

       “Moneyup front, Injun Girl!”

       Shetossed him a dime and smiled.

       Sheturned and looked out the window as a small funeral procession passed. All ofthe people were Native. The men were solemn, and the women were sobbing andwailing.

       TheNative woman turned, looked the Toothless Wonder in the face and said, “Whodied?’

       “SomeInjun girl hung herself.”

       “Hmm,I heard that was the third one in a year and a half and they all worked for youat one time,” she replied sharply.

       “Coincidence,”he replied.

       Yea,I muttered to myself, except Lisa Beaver had told me what had happened herelast fall. She was so ashamed. The sudden sound of duct tape being tore from aroll brought my attention back to what was about to happen.

       TheBlackfoot stood up with a strip of duct tape and grabbed the Toothless Wonderby the head and wrapped the duct tape around his mouth in three quick turns.

       Thewoman grabbed the Toothless Wonder’s wrists in a vicelike grip and laid themflat on the pine counter. Meanwhile, the Blackfoot man pushed his back againstthe owner, pinning him against the counter so he couldn’t move. Next, heslipped his knife from its sheaf and laid it on the hot burner where thehotdogs simmered in a pot of water. He then turned and reached around the manwith both arms and held his hands flat on the counter.

All the while theToothless Wonder was trying to scream through the duct tape and all that cameout was a muffled sound.

I watched as the womanquickly pulled her knives, one in each hand and drove them into the ToothlessWonder’s flattened hands pinning them to the counter.

       AsThe blood spurted up, the Blackfoot warrior swung his hatchet, cutting off bothof the owners’ thumbs with a swiftness of a hawk diving for a rabbit. Bloodspurted all over the counter The Blackfoot warrior reached for his red-hotknife and cauterized the spots where the man’s thumbs had been and around thetwo knife blade wounds, stopping the bleeding.

       TheToothless Wonder looked like he was going to pass out, so the Blackfoot mantook a cold pail of water and doused his head.

       Thewoman grabbed the man’s sopping wet head in her hands and said, “Listencarefully to me. We know you raped those three dead girls while they worked foryou. We also know that they never reported it to the law because it would be anIndian’s word against a white man’s word. Today you lost your thumbs, but if weever hear about you again, it will be the rest of your fingers, and maybe yourlife. You tell the law this was an accident; your life depends on it”

       TheBlackfoot warrior handed the woman a wet dishtowel and she wiped the blood fromher hands. I heard the train whistle as it pulled into the station and lookedat the clock; 3:03, a minute early.

       Asthe two walked out of the restaurant, the Warrior nodded at me. I watched asthey boarded the eastbound train. I went to the bathroom, peed, washed my handsthen walked out the front door. I grasped the handle of my lawnmower and pushedit down the dusty street back to the reservation. One wheel was squeaking, I’llhave to oil that.

            

            

 

        

  

 

 

Thank you for being our guest this week, Rick.We wish you much success with your stories. See you in July.

 

And another BIG thank you to all our visitorsand readers.

The Story Behind the Story with Joanna Vander Vlugt

 

Let’s welcome Joanna , a popular westcoast author, to the Scribbler.

She is joining us this week to tellus the SBTS of her upcoming thriller, Spy Girls.

Her previous novels have received highpraise a multitude of 5 Star Ratings.

Read on my friends.

 

 

 

JoannaVander Vlugt is an author and illustrator. As a teenager, she drew charcoalportraits and wrote mysteries. Now, she uses Copic markers to illustratemotorcycles and scooters. Under the pseudonym J.C. Szasz, Joanna’s shortmysteries Egyptian Queen, and The Parrot andWild Mushroom Stuffingwere both published in Crime Writers of Canada mystery anthologies. Her essay, No Beatles Reunion was published in the DroppedThreads 3: Beyond the Small Circle anthology.

The Unravelling, her debut novel, and Dealer’sChild wereCanadian Book Club Awards finalists. Joanna draws upon her 13 years’ experienceworking in the prosecutor’s office and 10 years working in the Office of thePolice Complaint Commissioner for inspiration for her novels. Joanna is proudof her podcast SAM Magazine and the many authors she has interviewed. Joanna’snovels, art and podcast can be found at joannavandervlugt.com. As well, herquarterly publication SAMMagazine,can be found at sam-magazine.com.

 

Title:  Spy Girls

 

Synopsis: In the quaint city of Victoria, a CIA action officer is released from prison, and a Chief Justice is murdered. The Law Society is scrutinizing Jade Thyme’s conduct in the most recent trial she prosecuted. Jade’s life can’t get much worse until she is coerced into finding an elusive double agent. Tangled in lies and political agendas, high speed chases and sticky bombs, Jade must outplay a dangerous Hungarian assassin before her own life is terminated.

 

The Story Behind the Story: The inspiration behind this storycame about when I heard that during the pandemic an individual had spat on anurse. People may not know this, but spitting on someone is considered assaultunder the Criminal Code. I was so disgusted with humanity when I heardabout this incident. My heroine, Jade, has a line of dialogue when she’swaiting for the verdict to come in on a similar assault case she’s justprosecuted, “…I’m looking for the humanity in humans.” That is a line I hadsaid during those times. I couldn’t believe that an individual would spit on anurse, who could very well be the person saving that individual’s life. Alsoduring the writing of Spy Girls, Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell wereexposed.

I’vealways been interested in classic espionage novels. I’ve wondered how spiescarry on any semblance of a relationship, when so much of their lives must bekept secret. When I spun those ideas together, Spy Girls came together. WhenI had Spy Girls read by novelist, Joe Goldberg, who writes The SpyDevils thriller series, and who was a CIA covert action officer, it wasencouraging to hear him say that what happens in my novel is not uncommon. I amso grateful for his feedback. I had another story line in this novel, which Iended up dropping, because it didn’t fit. Kudos to my editor for pointing thatout.

Thereis so much chatter online. Sometimes it feels that the person with the loudestvoice is the one heard. I believe writers use fiction as a tool to point outthe rights and wrongs in society. Our novels become our voice.

 

Website: Go HERE.

 

Acouple of questions before you go, Joanna:

Scribbler: What is the perfect setting for you when you write your stories?

Joanna: I love this question. It’s been two years since I retiredfrom my government job at the Ministry of the Attorney General. I worked forthe government for 34 years. It took me a little time to adapt to my newfreedom, and sometimes I felt like I was floundering. I dreamed of the day whenI could write full-time. That day had come and I didn’t know what to do.  I realized that I needed to treat writinglike a job. I show up at 9:00 am in the office in our house. I have twomini-schnauzers and they are so used to my schedule, as soon as they see mewith my mocha in my hand, and I say, “let’s go,” they are in the office intheir beds before me. On the weekends when I may not follow that routine, theylook at me a little confused.

 

Coffee or whiskey? Music or silence? Messy or neat notes?

When I write, I listen to soft jazz, or spa music. I’m working on thefirst draft of a time travel, and the spa music just sets the mood. Now, whenit comes to action scenes, or fight scenes, I listen to the rock band Alice InChains. With respect to notes, oh gosh, they are a mix of everything. If I’mrewriting, I’ll have notes up the side of the page with arrows and PTO circled,and sentences numbered.

 

Scribbler:  What’s your favorite and least favorite part of publishing?

Joanna: My favorite part of publishing is seeing the book cover. I learned a lesson when I hired Umbrella Squared. I told Kristy, the designer, everything I didn’t want on my cover. I didn’t want an image of the back of a woman running. I had seen many books with that as a cover. Kristy provided me with cover samples of women riding motorcycles, because that’s what my heroine does, but it didn’t click. Kristy then provided me with images of women holding a motorcycle helmet, or by bridges (bridges are a backdrop for my story), images I would never have thought of, and I loved them. I love how she designed my book. She knew what I didn’t want, and provided me with other options.

My least favorite part of the publishing industry is the industry not “thinking outside the box.” I create motorcycle illustrations. In Spy Girls, when you flip open that book, you will see one of my motorcycle illustrations. I’m taking a chance having that illustration in there, because I get the feeling that’s not something you do in a thriller novel. I’m of the view, why not? My motorcycle illustrations have sold in Canada, the US, Australia, and I see the construction of a book and the packaging (book design) as an expression of creativity and art.

Excerpt from Spy Girls, Part III, Chapter 18 – Red Box

Joanna: What I found cool about this excerpt, is that I reached out to the rock band Trooper, and asked if I could quote the song title and lyric from their song 3 Dressed Up as a 9. When I received an email back saying I could, I was ecstatic.

Adam stood and something hard nailed him on the side of the head.He stumbled, cupping his throbbing ear with his hand.

Another slam to his lower back.

Jesus. He stumbled again, holding onto the table. A woman raised abutcher block above her head, steps from him.

“Babe, babe, it’s okay,” Jan said, grabbing her arm. “Put thebutcher block down.”

Adam straightened. Blood whooshed through his ear, and a headachesteamrolled his skull.

The woman shoved the cutting board onto the counter. Shestraightened her short nightdress. “You’re lucky I’m not armed.”

Jan held his hand out, keeping her back. “I know him.”

“You know this asshole? Why is he trying to kill you?”

“Because,” Adam retrieved his cell from the floor, his headpounding harder, “Jade Thyme has been kidnapped.” He held his cell out, showingher the photo.

The woman’s eyes narrowed. Her one fake eyelash, that had survivedthe night, gave her a battered, sinister appearance. She propped her hand onher hip. “Doesn’t give you the right to attack my boyfriend.”

“Elyssia,” Jan said, rubbing his neck. “Best you get dressed, andI’ll explain later.”

“Really, Jan, really? You shush me off so you can talk to thisloser who broke into your home and assaulted you?”

Jan braced his hand on the counter. “I knowthis loser, and I let him in. Adam Younghusband, meet Elyssia Hawthorne.Elyssia, Adam.”

Elyssia Hawthorne. Will’s daughter.

She eyed him. Her expression changed from furious Chihuahua tosly, one-lash opportunist. Did she know about his relationship with Will? WasElyssia going to be a problem?

Adam turned to Jan. “We need to talk. Now.” He pulled a crackedcell phone from his pocket. “Jade’s cell. I found it outside Fan Tan Alley.”

“Call the cops,” Elyssia said.

Adam glared. Before he even knew who she was, he wanted Elyssiagone. Now, he really wanted her to leave.

“Elyssia.” Jan put his arm around her shoulders as he escorted herdown the hall. “This is important.”

“Are you saying I’m not? Jade is more important than me? Firstthat crazy bitch from six months ago, now Jade. Where do I play in the schemeof your life, Jan?”

“Jade’s been kidnapped, Elyssia,” Adam said. “So, yes, she’s moreimportant than you.”

She spun around facing him, her eyes narrowing. “Maybe if shestopped pissing people off.”

Adam stepped forward. “Do you know who kidnapped her?”

She looked from him to Jan.

“Elyssia, baby, come on,” Jan said. “What do you know?”

“There was a security guard around Fan Tan, except he wasn’t asecurity guard. He was once charged for impersonating a cop.”

“And you didn’t warn her?” Adam exclaimed.

“I’m not her bodyguard. You’re the one screwing her,” she firedback. “The only reason I know is because I once defended him.”

“Did you see her get kidnapped?” Adam shouted.

“No!” She marched into the other room, slamming the door behindher.

Adam looked at Jan. “She’s a real piece of work. She knew. Yourcrazy girlfriend knew. That’s it.” Adam stomped toward the door. “I’m draggingher skinny ass down to Vic PD.”

“Give me a minute.” Jan pushed him back, grabbed a newspaper andthrew it at him. “Occupy yourself.” He disappeared into the room.

Adam heard their raised voices. He placed the paper on the  kitchen island. God he needed a Tylenol.Then, he saw the headline.

Lawyer Shot Dead.

He pulled out a stool and, rubbing his forehead, read. The articlehighlighted Bernie’s legal career, and his practice with the late JusticeChimera, who had been murdered the previous week. The police didn’t reveal muchabout the investigation, but they weren’t ruling out that the murders wererelated.

A thump against the door and more shouts from Elyssia.

He glanced in their general direction. They’re both nuts.

Underneath that article was another headline.

Hungarian Mobster Arrested.

Adam recognized the mob boss, who was in town for business when hewas arrested in an after-hours nightclub. This was the mobster’s second assaultin two weeks, and he was now being held in custody until his bail hearing. Adamstepped away from the table when he saw the red box on a cabinet.

Was it . . . her? He flipped the lid and pulled out cotton.Teeth. Upper and lower jaw, gold-plated. Crap. Katriona had been here.Maybe he should show the teeth to Elyssia? Get his point across as to who theywere messing with.

The door opened. Elyssia’s voice was now at gunshot decibels. “Weare through!” Dressed in a sparkling purple mini-dress, white fur shawl andpurple ostrich feather stilettos, she pulled wheeled luggage behind her.

Jan followed. “Elyssia, listen. It’s a bad time right—”

“When isn’t it a bad time, Jan? Every other woman comes before me.It’s not like I’m a three dressed up as a nine. I’m a nine. More than a nine, aGoddamn ten. And you treat me like crap.”

Adam looked up. He had heard that lyric, three dressed up as anine. Where? When?

“These are dangerous—”

“We’re through.”

She marched onto the porch. The fur shawl slipped, landing on thepavement, exposing a Prince tattoo on her left shoulder.

She stopped, her legs straddling two steps.

“Your shawl,” Jan said, holding it out to her.

She grabbed it and clicked out of sight.

Jan closed the door and returned to the main living area. Herubbed his hands over his face. “Give me a minute.”

“Trooper.”

“Excuse me?”

“The rock band Trooper wrote and sang that song, 3 Dressed Upas a 9. My dad listened to them all the time.”

“Glad you’re tripping down memory lane at my expense, but we’vegot bigger issues.” Jan disappeared into another room.

Thank you for being our guest this week, Joanna. We wish you continued success with your writing.
And another grateful thank you to our visitors and readers. Please feel free to leave a comment.
Comments: Because of an anomaly with Google, most time you have to comment as Anonymous. If so, please add your name with your comment in the comment box so we will know who you are.

The Story Behind the Story with Author Sandra Woods Poulin of Aldouane, NB, Canada.

 

Let's welcome Sandrato the Scribbler. This is her first visit and she has a new book which isgenerating a lot of excitement.

Read on my friends.

                                                          

Sandra Woods is a passionate, heart-centered leader,motivator and Reiki innovator who awakes individuals across the globe to theirtrue gifts. She has acted as an intuitive wellness consultant for over 27years, working with individuals as well as groups in opening their individualgifts for healing the mind, body, and soul for both themselves and others.Sandra is also the creator of ‘ Rock Your Reiki ’ , an exclusive online program developed tosupport individuals in being attuned to all levels of Reiki.

 

Her dream has come true when she created a workbook journalthat can help many people to start or even continue on their healing journey.Knowledge can change people ’ s lives and theknowledge in this workbook can help them be their best version.

 

Title: Feel Better About Yourself

 

 

Synopsis:  A self-care discovery workbook journal to help you uncover and flow with the 4 bodies elements.

*This workbook journal guide you to understanding your 4 elements

(Mental, Emotion, Physical and Spiritual).

* You get to learn and receive knowledge in each of the elements.

* You get to practices simple techniques that can bring balance in seconds.

*You also get time to deepen your reflection on certain questions and stop time to journal your thoughts or feelings.

TheStory Behind the Story: Iwas guided to write this book because I felt inside of me that people arehaving a difficult time with stress, being overwhelmed, not enjoying life andnot living life the way they wish they could. I have been a healer for the past27 years and I have done many healing session and it makes me so sad thatpeople hold on to so many emotion of regrets, sadness, disappointment, grief,anxiety, worry and so many more emotions. These emotion gets in the way of being happy, joyful and balance.  Some people don't know how to bring balanceand let go of these emotion that no longer service them. This book inspirespeople to take time to stop and bring focus within themselves and bring in theunderstanding that they are more than the mental body. My mission to havepeople read, learn and practice the techniques that can help them to releaseemotion that no longer services with ease and flow - love and appreciation andcreate a better life for themselves. I wish for everyone a life of confidence,balance, joy and fulfilment.

 

AMETHYST LOFT
A Sacred Space of Healing,Transformation and Writing

*REIKI *INTUITION*QUANTUM FLOW *MEDITATION

 

Website.  GO HERE.

 

 

 A couple of questions before you go, Sandra.

 

Scribbler: Where’s your favourite writing spot?

 

Sandra: Eric and I moved in a country home and we renovatedmany areas of the house. We created a multi-purpose room that could be utilizedfor a healing room, office and a sleeping space. I enjoy being in this room, asit is quiet and peaceful, which helps balance my energy and motivated me ofwriting. 

I have everything such as crystals, motivating books,candles and angel cards to keep me balanced and reaching for new heights. WhenI want to start writing put on the alpha sound music, then I centre myself, andthen I let my heart write.  My writing issometime in morning or afternoon. When everything is so quiet and peaceful andmy mind is rested and at peace the information for the book came clearly andeasily. I make sure to have water on the desk to keep my ideas active andflowing.

 

 

Scribbler: How do you decide on the title of yourworkbook journal?

Sinceit is my first one I started writing and ones in a while I would get an idea ofthe title and as the book was getting closer to finished I was sharing mymotivation about the book to a friend and the title just come out. I gotgoosebumps, so I knew that was going to be the title of my book.

 

 

Thank you for being our guest this week, Sandra. We wishyou continued success with your writing and look forward to book # two.

 

And another BIG thank you to all out visitors andreaders.

Leave us a comment.

The Story Behind the Story with Diane McGyver of Halifax, NS, Canada.

 

It is with great pleasure we welcomeDiane back for the SBTS. This week she will be telling us about her newestnovel. 

If you missed her first visit, pleasego HERE.

Read on my friends.

 

Lady Diane McGyver fell in love with the fantasy genre when at the age of13 an awesome Dungeon Master introduced her to Dungeons & Dragons. Fromthere, she landed in the world created by Terry Brooks, then journeyed into therealms crafted by Mercedes Lackey. By the age of 16, she was truly lost tomagical lands and dreamt of one day living in one or two.

Her future goal is to write fantasy stories until she’s 100 years old.She’s already made plans to retire–at an early age–to write by the sea whereshe spent her childhood. There, she will live in a peel tower or a stonecottage and raise chickens, commune with trees and find adventure.

 

 

Title: Dragons in the Dungeon

 

 

Synopsis: Ryan McCormac is addicted to playing Mediaeval DungeonAdventures with friends every Friday night. He’s so consumed with therole-playing game that he wishes he could find a spell to transport him intothat world where he could create his own campaign. One day, his wish comestrue. But his friends aren’t there, and the world is nothing like he thought itwould be. Every day he fears forhis life. The people are soulless, the landscape is colourless and the magic isnowhere to be found. The only way home is to find another like him andsacrifice them.

Afterfive years, he’s finally found someone from his world. Now he just has to gether to the wizard who can perform the spell. Simple right? Except she’s agatherer and before he reaches the wizard, she’s gathered several friends whoplan to save her.
If you played Dungeons and Dragons in the 1980s, you’ve got this. You know thefeeling of joining friends on a quest, choosing your race, be it dwarf or elf,your profession, possibly fighter or thief, gathering your gear and exploringendless dungeons. This story is a tribute to those days when life was good,music was better and days were endless.

 

 

The Story Behind the Story: When I was 13 years old, an amazingDungeon Master introduced me to the role-playing game Dungeons & Dragons.While I had dabbled in fantasy worlds before this and had dreamt of magic,fairies and dragons, D&D was the beginning of fully understanding and immersingmyself in such fantastic places.

Theidea behind Dragons in the Dungeon developed when I was a teen and playingDungeons and Dragons. My daydreams were filled with the possibility of findinga spell and being transported into that fantasy world I ventured into with myfriends every Friday night.

Whilemy friends and I discussed the possibility of living in that realm, I could seethey were joking, not taking it seriously, whereas I was giving real considerationabout actually doing it.

Feelinga little silly about genuinely thinking about entering the fantasy world, Inever voiced my honest opinion, and I never wrote a story about the possibilitybecause I feared my friends would learn just how crazy I was. Like most youngwriters, that fear of readers thinking I was all that I wrote about limited mystories.

Fastforward 30 years, and now I don’t give a second thought to if readers think I’mcrazy. In 2022, the idea for a story focused on a player of the game finding aspell and being transported into the fantasy realm came to me in dream. It wastime to write it, and write I did.

Istarted May 7, 2022, and completed the first draft on August 5, 2022. My goalwas 100,000 words, but it ended at 154,122 words.

WhileI may never find that spell to transport me into a magnificent fantasy world,complete with dungeons and dragons, it doesn’t stop me from dreaming andlooking for one.

 

 

Diana's Website: Go HERE.

A couple of questions before you go, Diane:

 

Scribbler: What is the perfect setting for you when you write your stories?

Diane: Iwrite my stories directly onto the computer. I took typing for three years inhigh school, so I’m able to type quickly and blindly. This means I can close myeyes, visualize a scene and write it. Adding to this, I like to be in a quietspace, familiar music playing quietly in the background and a cup of tea on mydesk.

 

Scribbler: What’s your favorite and least favorite part of publishing?

Diane: My favourite part of publishing is designing the cover. My least favourite part is the technical side of designing the interior, ensuring everything lines up and is accepted by the publishing platform, which for me is Amazon.

An Excerpt from Dragons in the Dungeon:

Cormac steered his horse along thestreet and took the third lane on the right. It was lined with two-storeyshops. The standard for most of this land. Businesses on the bottom; livingquarters on the top. It was all so typical. The structures were the same justlike the new subdivisions being built where he came from. Every house had thesame design. So what if they were different colours. Walk in one, he walked inthem all. There was nothing architecturally interesting about any of them.Nothing magical. Nothing special. That monotony was repeated here.

“A music shop,” said Nimble. “Let’svisit it later.”

“Yes,” said Loggie. “I would loveto.”

“A magic wand shop?” Her voice rose.“Incredible. Lucinda’s Enchanted Wands. Let’s go there, too! We’ll see whatthey have besides wands.”

Cormac stared at the shop. He’dnever seen a magic wand shop. He hadn’t even seen a magic shop. He wondered if they really sold magicalwands or if they were like the witches’ shops at home, a place of highexpectations and no return. They sold trinkets to decorate a room but held noreal magic.

“Now that’s a sanctuary.”

He turned to Loggie’s voice andfollowed his line of sight.

“We need to go there, too,”whispered Nimble.

“We don’t need sanctuary,” he said.

“Yet we’ll go anyways. It calls tothose it wishes to see. And I hear it whispering to me.”

He swung around. Her expression wasone of awe, as if she’d seen the most magnificent sight in her life, and thatwhat she most desired rested behind those doors. Granted, the sanctuary was agreat looking building, but it didn’t entice him to enter. “We should stay outof sight.”

She frowned. “Do you fear living?”

“Dying.”

“If that is where you focus yourenergy, you will never live. In essence, you’ve already died inside.”

He turned back around. What did sheknow? Every morning, she was reborn; her history, all of it, good and bad,erased from her memory. She saw this world with new eyes daily. She felt thesame every day as he had when he’d first arrived: inspired, hopeful,fascinated. Reduced to hunting and grovelling for survival forced him to seehow silly he had been to believe in an enchanted fantasy world. If there was ahell on Earth, this was it.

 

 

 

 

Pleasenote that Diane will be participating in the GMRD Book Fair to be held inRiverview, NB, on July 27th, 2024

GoHERE.

 

Thankyou for being our guest this week, Diane. Your novel sounds appealing and I’m lookingforward to reading it. We wish you continued success with your writing.

Anda GREAT BIG thank you to all our visitorsand readers.

Tellus what’s on your mind in the comment box below.