2011 Resolution Challenge

I hope everyone had a good holiday. I read over last year’s resolutions and realized a few things.  I’ve drastically changed since then.  I have completely new ideas and feeling about almost everything, even writing. In other words I’ve grown.

I’m not going to post my resolutions this year, what I’m going to do is post about my journey through them.  Every change, disappointment, realization, expectation and success, and what happen to cause me to change. 

Since this blog is a journal about my writing journey, my first post this new year, and yes I’m starting a little early is about my decision to start using a writing book called The Weekend Novelist by Robert J. Ray and Bret Norris. 

Now I just have to decide on which project to work on.  I have one manuscript I started last year when I did the NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month, in November of 2010.  I didn’t participate this year, 2011.   I started the revisions but had many questions.  Lets just say the revisions didn’t go well. I was not satisfied at all with the manuscript or the revisions and felt a complete failure as a writer. So I started purchasing and reading how to writing book.  I learned a lot, just not how to write a novel. 

One of the books I bought was about plot and structure.  This is what I thought was lacking in my manuscript. So I started a new project based on the info in the book.  The ideas were flowing and it was going good until I ran into a wall. Which is what happens to most novice writers.

How do I proceed?  It was frustrating.  I was in my bedroom sitting on my bed, almost ready to cry.  Looking around my room and that’s when it happened.  Right next to the bed is a small bookshelf where I keep the how to write books.  It was like a light shinning from heaven shown right on a book.  The Weekend Novelist, by Robert J. Ray and Bret Norris.  There it was, the answer I was looking for.

My newest decision.  Go through the book one weekend at a time and apply what I learn to my newest project.  It’s in the idea stage, so that’s perfect. 

I might be incorporating more but it depends on how much time I have writing. 

What new resolutions have you decided to do this year.  

Last Years New Year’s Resolutions.

Did you put down your new years resolutions yet?  I had a good look at my new year’s resolutions from last year.  I had different dreams back then.  My intention was to work on my writing platform.  I was to do this in several ways. 
 I started a Blogstory line.  Then posted my short stories in a few places trying to get my name out there.  But I came to the realization that my strengths in writing wasn’t strong enough to continue. 

My blogstory line, while some people read, there wasn’t much feedback  if they liked it or not.  One of my friends loved it and wanted me to continue.  I had others tell me they read and liked it.  I was happy with this, but then ran into a snag.  My conclusion was it wasn’t good enough to spark interest and continue.  I put it on hold until I understand the writing process better.

I took off all the short stories I had in different places.  I did revisions on them and plan to improve them more.  So I put on hold for a while.

Where I improved. 
What I did do was reach my 2011 Book Challenge.  This challenge I didn’t have too much trouble with because I love to read.  My challenge was to read 50 books throughout the year.  My final count was 68. 
(See 2011 Book Challenge - as I progressed through the year.) 

I did continue to study the writing process and have greatly improved, not only in my writing but in my critiquing. This was good for my Diligent Writes Group that I founded. 

The diligent Writers Critiquing Group is strong.  We don’t have a lot of people but we have a few committed individuals.  We are all progressing one step at a time.  Each writer is talented and adds a lot to each critique.  It has been my pleasure to start and work with this group.  I intend to continue it with the hope that other committed writers will come.  

I have started a project of 'The Fiction Writers Workshop.'   This class is doing one chapter once a month.  We tackle a different aspect of writing each month, and then do the writing exercises.  We get together and discuss them and then cover the next month’s topic. 

New Year's Resolution for 2012. I’m going to continue the book challenge and keep track of what I read during the year.  But this year I’m also going to keep track of my writing, how many words and minutes I write.  My intention is to learn discipline.  I stopped watching most TV shows, and other diversions that keep me from writing.  So my goal will be discipline in this next year.  I have other resolutions of a personal nature but won’t bore you with them. 

What New Year’s resolutions did you pass from last year?  How have you grown from last January to this December? What will you do to continue that growth.  Much came be accomplished in one year, don’t waste it on trivial matters.  Choose wisely. 

Until Next time. 
Picture from pictures.com

Christmas Miracle.

Have you ever had a Christmas Miracle?  I did but at the time I didn’t know it.

I was in College at the time. I worked at a local hospital on a work study program at night.  I worked then every six months I wrote up a report and received credits.  My position was a ward clerk floater. When one of the permanent ward clerks called off, I worked in their place.  If everyone showed up then they placed me in another area.  I worked all over the hospital and met many people. 

The day was Christmas Eve.  Usually my shift was 6:00pm – 10:00pm but I was able to talk my supervisor into allowing me to go home early.  I explained I hadn’t been able to shop for holiday meal yet and was hoping to go before the grocery store closed.  He agreed and allowed me to use some of my vacation pay to cover the time.  It was a slow evening in the hospital.   

So at seven I left the hospital and caught the bus to my little apartment.  It took about an hour because I had to connect with another bus in downtown Cleveland.  As soon as I arrived home, even though I was tired, I grabbed my reusable grocery bags and practically ran to the grocery store. My apartment was in a very ideal location.  I lived just off a main street, a few houses down from the corner and the grocery store was on another main street a few blocks down in the opposite direction.

As I was speed walking to the grocery store I couldn’t tell if it was closed or not. “Please let it be open” was my mantra.  But it was not to be.  When I turned the corner to the parking lot and main entrance.  The entire parking lot was empty and a large Closed sinn hung on the door.  At that moment my heart was empty. 

I hung my head and cried all the way home.  My speed walking was now a slow crawl. I was alone already and it was hard enough, now this.  Of course all the restaurants, and grocery stores will be closed on Christmas Day, so there was no way I could get any type of food. Christmas dinner was a no go and any kind of holiday for me was gone.  It was a very bitter pill to swallow.  I went to bed with prayers of love and devotion to the person who’s birthday it was. I was still grateful that I had a place to live, having been homeless a few years before. 

The next morning it was a beautiful sunny day, even here in Cleveland Ohio.  I watched the parade on TV and just did the best I could.   I had a bowl of cereal for breakfast, what else could I do?

Later when hunger finally caught up with me, I went scrounging in the refrigerator.  Leftovers it would be.  Strangely I found a few things and ended up having one of the best meals I can remember.  Sure it was leftovers but it tasted delicious. I remember praying and being grateful for everything that I had. I was happy to be alive.  The Christmas spirit came into this lonely heart of mine and I was filled with sweetness and joy.  Even years later I remember this Christmas above all others.  Of course I call my family and we talk and share, but I am still alone, or so I thought. 

It was some time later that I realized something extraordinary happened. I remembered that the day before I hardly had any food in that refrigerator.  I desperately needed to buy food not only for the holiday, but for the entire week.  Yet, on Christmas I had a lot of food in there.  Food I’m not sure where it came from.  And it was some of the best tasting food I can remember.  I also remember finally feeling the Christmas spirit. 

Every year since, I’ve had food in my refrigerator and the Christmas spirit in my heart. But still, I remember that holiday miracle even more. 

So the next time Christmas doesn’t quite go as you had planned for whatever reason, the holiday spirit is more important, and of course giving thanks and praise.  May your Holiday be blessed with the spirit within, and joy to you and yours always.

Until next time. 

Picture by picture.com

Stranger than Fiction. Part 2

This post is another strange thing that happened to me while I was in Sweden.  I had been living on a farm in the small town of Holmestad, near a little bit larger town called Gëtene.  Every day I would ride my bike into the town, crossing a main highway with two way traffic, and attend the language school.  The school consisted of many people from all over the world who didn’t speak Swedish.  But that is another story. 

This particular day, I went to school as usual.  After school, I don’t remember why but I needed to get back to the house quickly.  I started on my bike, and when I got to the main highway I stopped until traffic cleared, then proceeded on.  The first thing I noticed upon crossing that main highway was a deer on the other side of the road in a field.  He was eating grass when he looked up at me.  He was big and beautiful, but seeing a deer is not uncommon in the area.  The road leading to the farm is a two way road and the cars are driving on the opposite side of the road.  I was on the right going against traffic.  The farm itself was situated on the right side of the road. 

I have my books tied to the back of the bike and I was speeding along, the wind in my hair and my legs pumping.  I was admiring the surrounding area with its amazing simplistic beauty, the green grass, and yellow mustard flower fields, the small farms here and there. 

I looked down for a moment and when I looked back up, my head jerked to the left.  There was a deer, the same one that I saw earlier.  He was running along side me, but not on the road, on the grass.  He had his eyes on me as a rival for speed. We were running together neck and neck.  Why he was following me I cannot say.  But what happened next was unexpected.  Somehow the deer tried to cross onto the road.  I’m not sure what he was doing, but he moved towards me, like he was going to run with me.  Just as he was about to cross, a car was in his way and he swerved.  The deer turned towards me in an effort to avoid it but the deer didn’t realize its consequences.  The deer slammed into me at a great speed.   Me, the deer and the bike went airborne.  A small yelp was all I was able to get out.  We landed in the ditch in a great big heap. 

This all happened in a split second. 

The bike was on top of me and the deer on top of the bike.  The buck quickly got up and took off unhurt.  But my right leg and knee hurt.  Pain filled my body, but I was too stunned to do anything. 

The driver of the car was out in a flash and at my side.  He spoke quickly, his face concerned as he lifted the bike off me.  In those moments I was unable to form anything coherent.  It registered that I better say something. “I’m okay.” I said. 

He stopped for a moment then switched to English.  He gave me a barrage of questions.  I shook my head.  “No don’t call for an ambulance, I live up the street.  I’m sure I can get there in a few moments.”  The man waited until I was able to get on the bike and was peddling away before he left. 

Back at the farm I told my friend who invited me to Sweden what happened.  He looked at me stunned, and then he started laughing.  I could have killed him.  Here I was hurt and beat up, bruised and still in shock, and he was laughing.  I had a big black and blue mark on my right knee and surrounding area.  No broken bones, thank God. 

My friend had a good time telling all of his friend and anyone who would listen about my little bout with a deer.  I think him laughing hurt more than the bruise.  What Americans think is funny is different from the Swedish people. 

Until next time. 

Stranger than Fiction.

I thought I would write something funny today. 

You’ve heard the adage, life is stranger than fiction.  A few weeks back I saw one that I thought was strange.  Well, not really, but it was cute.

I’m taking the bus now since my car broke down about a month ago and the amount to fix it is beyond me at the moment.  So I’m walking home from the bus stop down an ally to get to my house on the cul-de-sac.  When I first entered the ally I heard dogs barking, easy since the sound is echoed throughout the entire ally.  I’m minding my own business, watching my step, because if I didn’t I would trip and fall.  I was thinking about all I had to do that night when I arrived upon the loud barking.  Mind you this was before the time changed and it was still light out.

That’s when I noticed a rooster walking along the rooftop of a building in the back of a yard.  the  dog that was barking at it was the one I heard upon entering the ally.  The rooster went from one side of the roof to the other and the dog was keeping pace with it.  I started laughing.  Know why?  Because the poor rooster just wanted to get back to his home, the chicken coop, and be with his hens, and the dog wouldn’t allow him to do that.

One thing about chickens and roosters, they do get out once in a while.  But the easiest way to get them back in is to leave the door open.  How do I know this? Well I had the opportunity to spend some time in Sweden back in 1994.  While I was there I took care of chickens and sold the eggs.  I also taught line dancing.  The Swedish people loved it. Well my students did.  Anyway I gained first hand knowledge about chickens and a rooster getting out of the coop. 

One of my roosters got out of the coop.  Not knowing what to do, I went chasing after it. 

That thing was fast. Those little legs can move and boy did it ever, clucking the whole time.  I chased the darn thing while it ran -- well, like a chicken with its head cut off.  After a while I finally sat down, too tired and defeated.  I’ll be darned that darn rooster after a few minutes strolled back into the coop and cozied up to his hens.  I could have killed it.  But he was in, and I could then get to my day.  So never again will I chase a rooster or chicken. 

All you have to do is open the door.   

Oh and another funny thing happened while I was there. Well, that’s for another day.  

Until next time. 

Pictures from Pictures.com royalty free. 

Inspiration. What Inspires You to Keep Writing?

Today I received My Writers Digest Monthly Magazine and saw an article on James Lee Burke.  Reading the article, he had so many really good things that can inspire writers to keep on. 

What I love about James Lee Burke is his no nonsense approach to writing.  He just does it everyday, no matter what.  He doesn’t accept any kind of rejection other than how it can help him become better.

James had three books published then went thirteen years of nothing.  That had to have been hard.  However he kept writing.  He developed a system and stuck to it. He said he  keep submitting to agents. 

James said. “Don’t compromise your work.  Submit your work anyway and go onto the next project.  Suddenly you find that you’re not interested in the fame, applause or silence.  You don’t hear any of them.  Never listen to the naysayers.  If you do, you will stop.  Don’t ever stop.” 

Work at it everyday, seven days a week.  No days off.  Keep perfecting your weaknesses. 

James says his nemesis is fatigue.  I can understand that.  What is your nemesis? What keeps you from writing?  Keep writing no matter what. Do it because you love it.  Find something or someone that inspires you and then write some more.  I will also.

On a side note:  JR.Ward author said in her Black Dagger Brotherhood Guide book, when her writing dried up she went in a whole other direction.  That was the best thing she could have ever done. 

Until next time.

All pictures from Pictures.com.   

She’s a Little Older and Wiser

I just published one of my short stories. This is a short story about an older women. She has a dilemma. Let me know if you like it. Just remember I'm still learning to write.


She’s a Little Older and Wiser

I think they call it Scatterbrained.

Being a writer I’ve always been a dreamer.   Now I have a new name to call myself.  Scatterbrained.  That’s what I feel like lately.  I had a few errands to run before I went to work, but I just drove by the place I needed to stop.  When I got to work I was so upset.  Now I have to wait one more day.  Darn. 

Writing a list so I can stop off after work, but what I was going to do after work now is not going to happen.   Double darn.  

What has me so scatterbrained.  Health issues.  I mean major health issues.   I ignored the thing, thinking that it would go away.  It’s been three years and it’s not going away.  Plus it’s getting worse.  It’s time I faced the fact and find out what it is.

It started with just a small itch.  But the itch persisted.  I tried many ways to stop it.  Sometimes it would almost go away only to flare up again.  Day after day, year after year.  It still itches, but now there is pain.  When I bump it or rub against it.  Ouch.

A few weeks ago I was watching Dr. Oz the TV show.  There was a panel of doctors as guest.  One of the female doctors said something that stunned me.  She said there is a not very widely know type of breast cancer called Inflammatory Breast Cancer.  She said it was where the breast would itch and would not go away.

I did some research, looking at photos and reading the internet. Finally I went to the Cleveland Clinic emergency room.  I was seen by a doctor practitioner but there is just no way to know.  I need further testing.  Another reason I’m scatterbrained. I forgot the phone number to the follow up doctor.  That’s the most important thing of all of the things I forgot.  Drat, Drat, Drat.

Well I will try again in the morning and will update on my health issue.  It may be absolutely nothing…

Until next time.  

The Diligent Writers Critiquing Group, September 2011 meetings.

I founded The Diligent Writes Critiquing Group because I couldn't find one.  After 7 months of groups and some success I'm having a problem. 

I’m trying to figure out a way to motive the writers of my critiquing group.  I have 32 members but only about 15 have shown up to a meeting at least once or more. 

There are a few who are consistent and committed, of which I am grateful. 

I thought of sending surveys to the group by email, but wonder what kinds of questions to ask.  I typed up two surveys but each time I chicken out and deleted it.  I kind of feel that if the person was motivated they would do what needs to be done.  Then again, I can remember a time when I had dreams and didn’t do anything about it.   

You may ask in what ways I have catered to the groups needs.  Well we have a main critiquing group that meets on Saturdays once a month.  I just added an evening time for the individuals who cannot make the weekend meeting. We have a smaller group for writers who have a finished draft and working on revisions, we meet twice a month.  Then we have a Fiction Writers Workshop.  We do a chapter each month during which we do 15 to 20 writing exercises to boost our writing techniques and knowledge.

In answer to this dilemma: I’m not going to try and motive the members who haven’t taken the time to come.  I’ve decided to promote the group to find other committed writers. 

Members will come and go, it’s the ones that stay that are the ones I’m interested in.   

I did a little bit of research and will start to pass out flyers and contact other writing group on line and off.  And I will ask the members who are active to spread the word.

This is just the beginning stages.  I’m stepping way out of my comfort zone but I’m willing to do it to help other writers and get the group off the ground.  

Update to come up soon.  Until next time. 

The Diligent Writers Critiquing Group.

I have to admit this particular meeting was a bit nerve wrecking for me. I was to give a critique on one of the member’s novel.  After one month of having it in my possession I was now going to give him both good news and bad news. 

The good news: for a first draft it was quite good. My immediate concern was, was this a first draft? If it wasn’t then I had bad news to convey. 

Upon asking him, this wasn’t the first draft and he did a considerable amount of revisions on it.

Drat, I said under my breath. 

The bad news: “The manuscript was not written with the reader in mind.” I said. 
Explaining what I mean to someone who doesn’t understand writing techniques was very difficult. 

I told him, “as I read, I couldn’t get close to the characters, to know what was going on, what they were seeing, feeling or thinking.  It didn’t make any sense to me.  I was hovering over the situation not in it, and it was so annoying.” I couldn’t even get through the Prologue, and it was the beginning. Of course I didn’t tell him that.  

I tried to explain a few more things about writing techniques and possible better ways to write it but he just looked at me. I could feel his confusion and disappointment. 

Oh gosh, the last thing I wanted to do was critiquing his novel under the table so much that he would stop writing all together.  Honestly his writing wasn’t bad.  It had great ideas and his tone was extremely well done.  However the execution of the writing was lacking.

How do I proceed here? I asked my friend if he had taken any writing classes.  He shook his head.  That explained a lot.  In order to understand how to make the most of your writing you/ the writer, need to understand how to write.  And believe me its not just putting pretty words on a page.  It involved technique.   

My first manuscript I didn’t have any clue how to write.  And it shows.  I read it to my girlfriend, who is a writer and a good one, and got some feedback that baffled me.  I tried to explain my thinking and she just told me it didn’t work.  I was so perplexed at the whole thing I just didn’t know what to do.

“Start reading books on writing.”  She said. Like that was the answer to all.  I was so overwhelmed I didn’t even know where to start. 

“I started with The Fiction Writers Workshop book.” She said.  We were talking over the phone.  The name of the book was familiar to me.  I looked on my bookshelf and guess what I saw.  The Fiction Writer Workshop book.  It was one of the first books I bought on writing.  In reality I thought I didn’t need it.  But being so overwhelmed I decided to go through the books and do the exercises. 

So back to my friend: I explained to him, when I started writing I had no clue either.  But the more I read books on writing techniques the better I understood what I was doing wrong.
So my advice to him was to start classes or reading books on how to write.

To be honest I’m not sure how he took my critique or my advice.  My only hope is that he doesn’t stop writing because of it.  He did tell me that he sent out seventeen query letters to agents and received nothing back, just rejection letter. 

If there was any kind of potential on the manuscript he would have received some kind of hand written message on the rejection letter.  He didn’t. 

I told him if he kept writing the way he was without knowing how to write it would take three times as long to get his writing where he wanted it to be.

If writing is your passion, please get some kind of education on it.  Either by taking classes or reading books on the art of writing.  There are many really good ones out there. Please remember that to achieve something takes time, passion, talent and practice.  Do you think a violist, or athletes or anyone achieves success without blood, sweat and tears.  It is the same with writing.   So write and do it because you love it. 

Until next time. 

Outlines and why they are so important.

As a writer I knew in my heart I didn’t want anything to get in the way of my creativity.  It seemed to me that an outline would do just that.  But it was the opposite.

Here is why:  When I started writing I had an idea and I let my fingers do the walking.  I had to admit when my fingers flew across the keyboard it was thrilling.  But then something happened.

The idea I had wasn’t well thought out.  Had I taken the time to outline my idea in a form that would allow me to add to it then ask those important questions, such as, why, when, where, what if and so forth.  I would never have gotten a block, so the idea ran out.

Ideas need to be well thought out and explored.  The more explored they are the more organic, or original the story is.

The way to organize those ideas is through outline.   I know most people don’t believe that.  But having a clear picture of where your story goes and all the nuances makes a big difference in how the story turns out.

When I started my manuscript I had an idea.  And as I proceeded I continued until the logical conclusions.  The ending was good and I am proud of it.  But there were some threads that I found later as I re-read my manuscript that were untouched.  Once found I realized those thread would make the story fuller and more three dimensional, adding tension, suspense and conflict plus more not only to the characters but to the story also.

So I am outlining the story now and will continue those thread, adding to the dimension of the characters and what happening in the story.  Outlining has allowed me to place each point in an order and move them around to better place them when they would fit.

I’m on my second reading of my story.  It needs a lot of work, but then again that’s what writing is all about isn’t it.  I learned a valuable lesson in Outlines.  I will keep you posted on the outcome of this.

If you have a similar problem or found a better way to solve it, please feel free to post a comment.  It would be great appreciated not only by me but others as well.

Happy writing,  until next time.  

A Lesson Learned on Warning Labels

A group of writers were meeting and critiquing their work.  When the first reader, after reading his piece stopped and looked around expectantly, waiting for feedback.

And feedback he got.  “Your book contains foul language, sexually explicit scenes and mythical creatures?”  A women looked at him incredulously.

The writer said.  “It contains Vampires, blood sucking, highly sexual, cussing swear words, and gory details.” He smiled proudly.

“But that is not good writing.”  She said.  In her life, back in the day, people didn’t talk like that and there was no reason for it, her mouth remained open.

The writer said, “This is the way it is and this is the way that my characters talk and live.  They are trying to eradicate a populous that is going to kill humans, their life is dangerous and they are raw to the core.”  He smiled sincerely.

“Wow.”  Said the older women.  She never heard anything so bad in all her life, stunned beyond words she was.  “If I had known before you read those words I would have left, I don’t care to hear them and I don’t care to be here.” Then she walked out of the room talking her things with her, never to be seen again. 

The rest of us just looked at each other and shrugged.  It didn’t offend us.  

Lesson learned.  Warn people before reading your work that there is sexual content and bad language in your writing. So that they may decide to listen or read it.

Until next time.

Little Fingers in My Coffee: Part 10

I have a surprise for you, I told the little Gnome.  I brought out a bag of  full coffee beans, roasted.  from Starbucks.  The ones he wants and the ones his village lost. 

“It’s a bag of coffee beans for you to take back to the village and grow more trees.”

His eyes popped out and he stood there for a moment.  Then he jumped into the air about six inches.  Which is a lot considering his small size.  Then he started saying a word I didn’t recognize in his native language.

“Excuse me what does that word mean?  The one you are saying over and over.”

He stopped, “Means, many thanks.”  Then he started dancing again.

He took more sips of the frappuccino and after a while he disappeared.

The next day he was on my desk just as I came to the office.  I poured his shot glass of frappuccino and he drank it.  I drank mine.

“I have something for you...”

“Mikos has present for you.” He blurted out, then took out of his pocket a small item and placed it on the floor.  Which was my desk.

I looked at it in confusion.  “What is it?”

Mikos took his hand and ran it over the item and it turned into a gold coin.  “Mikos gives to you.  For help to village.”

Inhaling I looked at the shiny coin.  Beautiful. “That is very generous.”  I took the coin and looked at it.  The coin was shiny gold and real smooth but I knew that I could not use it as currency in my world, but the coin was given in friendship.  “Thank you Mikos, I will treasure it always.”

Mikos looked down and did his foot in circles again.

“Now it’s my turn to give you something.”  I placed on the desk near him a small pin, it was a fake diamond earring, just one, with the post in the back, and a tiny barrette I had laying around the house. “For your girl.”  I told him.

He picked up both.

I explained, “The diamond earring can be used as a pin on one of her outfits, and the barrette is for her hair.  Do you think she'll like it?”

I will never forget the way he looked at me.  He didn’t say anything for a moment.  His emotions to much for him to speak. Mine also. The moment bonded us.

“Come on, now, don’t get mushy.  As long as you don’t steal my frappuccino we can be friends.”  I chided him.

Mikos smiled.  “Promise I.”  He said putting his hand over is heart.

I poured him some frappuccino in his little shot glass and he took a big swill.  We talked and drank until it was time for him to go.

“Will you come back often?”

Mikos made a slight bow and then disappeared taking the coffee beans and the trinkets for his girl.

Prologue: 
Mikos comes by often and we share a drink of our favorite coffee flavor.  I give him cute human trinkets to sell to his village.  And of course he will tell me stories of his travels in the human realm and his life in the village.  It’s a match made in Gnomes.

The end.

P.S.  Shall I repeat his stories and travels he tells me?

Little Finger in My Coffee: Part 9

The next day at work Mikos showed up. He just appeared in front of me right in the middle of my desk. I had my frappuccino in its usual spot near my computer.  He eyed it longingly.  He still had is faded hat and worn out clothes on.   His outfits never change.  Does he have fairies or something that wash his clothes each night?  Anyway.

“Would you like some?”  I asked.

Looking sheepish, he nodded.

“You know after talking with you yesterday and hearing your story I got to thinking.  I really don’t like to share my frappuccino.  I like it as much as you do.”  I shuffled some papers and moved a few things around my desk.  (I moved them around him)

Mikos just starred at me while I talked.

“I understand that your village is back to its glory but how is your family business.  Were you able to start that up again?”

“Operations small.”  Mikos said.

“Oh.”  I looked thoughtful.  “And I understand you found a new girl you might be interested in.”

Mikos was looking at the frappuccino until I said something about his new girl.  His head whipped up and he looked at me.  He smiled wide getting a little red in embarrassment. The look was charming.  He shuffled his foot as before, going in circles.  “My girl pretty.”  He said in his strange accent.

“I’m sure she is very beautiful.”

He looked at the frappuccino again.

Man, he is relentless. I guess I cannot get his attention away from the frappuccino.  “Would you like some?”

MIkos nodded emphatically almost loosing his hat in the process.

Smiling I pulled out a small shot glass that I brought from home, not that I have wine or anything, and I picked up my glass bottle of frappuccino, I stopped in mid motion.

Mikos licked his lips.

“Wait,” I said.  I put the glass bottle back down and went into the kitchen.

Mikos watched me as I walked into the other room.  When I came back, “What do you think I have behind my back?”  I asked him.

He shrugged perplexed and a little annoyed.  Bringing what I had behind my back to the front I said, “I bought you your own frappuccino.”  I put the large glass bottle next to him and his eyes bugged out.  The bottle was bigger than him.  Mikos jumped into a jig dance.  It was so funny to see this little man dancing a jig in happiness.   I burst out laughing.

Mikos started laughing himself, his laugh being very contagious, and then he started clapping.   While he danced I poured the liquid into the shot glass filling it up.   The glass was really too big for him, it looked like a gigantic mug of beer, compared to his sized.

“This is your own bottle and when you come to visit I will pour you some, this way I don’t have to share mine, agreed?”

Mikos nodded as the frappuccino spilled from his little lips.  His little hands holding the shot glass such as a child holds a sippy cup, with both hands.  His little head going up and down licking the delicious coffee from his lips.

I smiled at him. “Can we be friends now?”

“You human is curious.  Why?” he asked.

“Because I like you and I think it’s cool to have a Gnome of my very own.”  I put my hands out. “Friends that is.  I don’t own you.  So will you visit me, and not just for the frappuccino?”

“Mikos happy.”  He said. “And he took another big swill from the drink. 

“I have another surprise for you.”  I told him. “It’s a …

Until next time.  

Little Fingers in My Coffee: Part 8

The Gnome and I come face to face.

The Gnome began to speak.  “My village beautiful.  Many trees.  My family helps with work.  We, how you say it, harvest the bean.  What you humans call coffee beans.  We harvest the beans and it feed all of village.  When humans come they take beans.  They destroy my village.  Many family die, including my wife and kids.

I place my hand on my mouth, “OH, I’m so sorry to hear that.”

The Gnome continued.  “Only a few live. When we see our village, we cry.”

“Is that why you take sips of my iced coffee?”

Mikos nodded.  He smirked in embarrassment, but then he got serious again.   

“We take revenge.  But humans are many.  We take back the beans, we also take other things.  Our village is back to glory now but all of Gnomes has changed.  We like the new stuff.  We come and see what other new stuff that we can take.”

This explained why he was so sneaky.  “Mr. Mikos, what happens when you take the stuff?  What do you do with it?”

He points a finger at me. “I take it back to village.  We use to trade for other things, clothes, food and wine.”

“Have any other humans found out about you or your people?”

“We are mostly myth.  Only a few humans believe mostly children and people like you.  In order to see us the humans must believe in us.”

That’s interesting I thought.  “What will you do now?”

Mikos put his hands behind him.  He rocked his body back and forth.  “I wants coffee.”  He looked sheepish.

“If I give you the coffee will you stop all the trouble?”  I asked.    Before I give him an answer regarding the coffee I asked him. “What have you learned today? I mean I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, and I didn’t?”

Mikos said, “You first human to ask.  shocked am I.” He looked down at his right foot, moving it around it circles.

“I want to be your friend.  Can we be that?”  I put my pinky out for him to shake.

Mikos nodded and shook my pinky.

We talked for a while and I asked him questions about his life, village and if he found another wife.   After he answered them I told him to come back tomorrow.  I will have some coffee for him.

Smiling Mikos disappeared.

Don’t you just love the way they leave a room.  Anyway I have an Idea.

Until next time.

Little Fingers in My Coffee: Part 7

The office was no longer an office.  It was a battleground.  Not only did every appliance come on. Gnomes came out of the woodwork and started throwing thing all over the place.  Plants were dumped, papers were strewn everywhere.  Picture fell off the walls.

Little Gnomes were laughing and playing with everything that can be moved.  They jumped on me and started pulling my hair and poking my eyes. I did my best to stop them but they persisted.  Still they jumped on my back and hung on, meanwhile laughing in hysteria.

I was beside myself trying to keep up with the stuff flying across the room, and tying to pick up the things that were dumped, only to have the Gnomes dump them again.  It was like something you would see out of an animated children’s story. Only this is not a story. This is real life.  I stopped trying and just watched.

The little Gnome named Mikos was watching the mayhem just as I was.  He seemed pleased that he could cause all this.

I crossed my arms and waited.

Realizing something was a miss he turned and looked me in the eye. 

I just shook my head, letting him know that despite this turmoil I was not giving in.

Mikos then understood.  I could see it in his eyes.

He made a sound much like a whistle and the bedlam ceased.  All the other gnomes stopped in mid motion and looked at him.  He did some kind of hand gesture, and then all the mess was cleaned up and the other gnomes disappeared.  Everything was back in place including my manuscript.  The only thing left was him and me comparing each other.

My arms still crossed, I addressed him.  “Did it ever occur to you to ask for the iced coffee?”

Mikos looked down.

I continued, “I might have shared if you just shown yourself.  I don’t like people taking from me.  It’s rude.”

The little guy’s eyes went wide.  “Share? You.”

“Is this your first contact with humans?” I asked.

The Gnomes eyes went grave.  He shook his head.

I went back to the desk and sat down.  “Would you tell me about it?”

The Gnomes disappeared and then appeared right on the desk.  He eyed me curiously.

I could see he wanted to tell me something, but he was cautious also.  I wanted to reassure him. “I won’t hurt you.”

He began to speak…

Until next time.

Little Fingers in My Coffee: Part 6

There it was, an honest to goodness Gnome standing right in the middle of my desk, only about four inches tall, if that.  He looked the same as before, faded red hat and worn out clothes. He had his hands on his hips “Sterbeks Want.” He demanded.

After a moment of not understanding, suddenly a picture of iced coffee frappuccino from Starbucks came into my mind.  “Oh, you want my iced coffee?”

The gnome nodded.

 I said, “Well it is mine. I made it therefore I should be able to drink It.” then I widen my eyes, making them real big to get the point across. “All of it.”

“Sterbeks Want.”  He stomped his foot and yelled, his little face turning as red as his faded hat.

“No.”

The little guy just disappeared.  He was there a moment then all of the sudden he was gone.   I waited to see what would happen.  Nothing.

Hah, maybe he’ll leave me and my iced coffee alone now.  I’m sure I’m not the only person around with an iced frappuccino.

Later that day I had my manuscript out.  I had it in my book bag and took it out for a moment then was distracted by a tenant.

“Hay where’s my manuscript?”  I said out loud.  “It was just here.’  I begin to look franticly for it.  I mean everywhere.  In my book bag, thinking I might have put it back.  “Is it under something?”  No scratching my head.  “It’s got to be here.”

“He he he he.” I heard the laughter, but no Gnome.

I stopped what I was doing.  “Oh God, that little guy didn’t just take my manuscript?”  Wait I just realized there was other information that was taken.  It must have been in with my manuscript.  Dread.  That information is pertinent to the office.  We have a new owner and Oh God I’m in trouble. Not only with my boss but with my self, that manuscript is the culmination of months of work.

The Gnome appeared on my desk again.  “Stekbeks Want.” He demanded.

“Why my Starbucks Iced coffee frappuccino?”  I asked him.  “I buy the stuff. I purchased it because I wanted it and you were taking sips.  That’s stealing in my book little Gnome.”  I can’t believe I’m really talking to a Gnome.  Anway.  He just stared at me.

Pointing to himself  “Mikos.”

It must be his name.  “Look Mikos, you are not to touch my iced coffee and that is that.”

Poof.  He disappeared again.  Only this time the lights started flicking.  The phone started ringing. My computer went dead. Then the doors started opening and closing.  The microwave came on.  The ceiling fans turn on high.  The copier started flipping papers all over the place.  The alarm started blaring then stopped, then started again.

I’m watched as things fall apart and total chaos brakes out.  I tried to stop things but so much was happening all at once.  “Oh God I’m going to be fired.”

Then it happened.  If I thought this chaos was bad, I was wrong.  Pandemonium just came…

Until next time.

Little fingers in my coffee: Part 5

WHEN I DECIDED TO BREW MY OWN COFFEE TO SAVE MONEY
I DIDN’T REALIZE I STARTED A WAR.

“Another day another dollar as my grandmammy used to say.”  Opening the door to the office, first thing I did was turn off the alarm.  Then turned around to put my things on the desk. “What the heck is that?” There was a piece of paper with a pen next to it.  It read.  Sterbeks want.

 “Sterbeks want? What does that mean? Who wrote it and why is it on my desk?”  I shrugged then threw the note away.

"Okay time to check the emails." someone emailed me with the name Mikos at puncnt dot com.  “Mikos?  I don’t know anyone by that name.” so I deleted it.  I’m not going to answer an email from someone I don’t know.  That makes good sense.  One never knows it might be a virus or something.

Sip, slurp, ahh,  taking a few swills of my home brewed frappucino I place the glass next to my computer.  Taking a look at my drink in pride.  "Yeah and I get it at a fraction of the cost.  I'm brilliant.  

“Gosh it’s getting hot, time to put the ceiling fan on.” turning the fan on to medium setting, than I  flipped the radio on for a little of Ryan Seacrest. The music playing in the background, I was typing up some thing for the boss when I heard some cackling laughter.

“Wait was that on the radio?”  I looked around, my fingers poised on the keys.  I shrugged and kept typing.  Then I heard it again.  Just as I was getting a chill down my back someone walked into the office and I had to attend to the window.  (When tenants come in they ring the bell at a window much like a medical or dental office.)     

After helping the tenants I turned around.  “What the heck.” The ceiling fan some how was on high and blowing stuff off my desk.  Quickly turning the fan down a notch I looked around. “Hay the radio’s off.  How’d that happen?” Must be a fluke.  I turned it back on.

"He he he he."

“Was that the sound of laughter?” That was definitely the sound of cackling laughter like before.  It sounded as if it was in more than one place within the room.  Then the chills went up my arms and across my neck.  I shuttered.

 “Sterbeks want”

I distinctively heard a strange accent with a deep voice, although it wasn't loud. I looked around and…

Until next time.

Little Fingers in My Coffee: Part 4

Forking out another $3.00 from my wallet, I give my money to the cashier.  “Man $3 bills for a Frappuccino.”  Shaking my head, “Gosh this stuff is expensive.”  I said to no one in particular.  As I get into the car, a light bulb comes on and the gears start turning.  “Ya know what I’ma gonna do. I’ll make my own. It has to be cheaper.” 

Later that day as I purchase the components to make my favorite drink, I realize how expensive the ingredients are.  And the different varieties to, which ones do I choose?

I decided on a regular grown roast with 50% caffeine, why, not sure.  Then I found a creamer with a chocolate flavor, like Mocha, see, my favorite flavor. I have sugar at home.  Rubbing my hands together, I am brilliant.

Arriving at home, I put my plan in action.  First Batch…  Whewww, way too strong.  “I‘d like to see the Gnomes taste this?” I said, anyway I get three Frappuccino’s out of the batch at a fraction of the cost.  Saving the glass Frappuccino bottles from Starbucks I fill them up and store them in the fridge.

Next day I bring my new concoction to the office.  Some time during the day I had to leave my desk and was in the other room.  On my way back I hear coughing.  Now mind you I’m in the office alone.  It’s the Gnomes.  I ran back to my desk?  Little drops of iced coffee on my desk and drips from the glass bottle.  He he he he he. My laughter rings out.   “Think you can handle my strong coffee?”

Silence.  

“Don’t touch my coffee” You’d think because it was too strong they would stop? 

Until next time. 

Little Fingers in My Coffee: Part 3

“Oh Yeah,” Slurp.  I’ve been waiting all week for this.  Frappuccino.  (I say it with reference.)  

Is there such a thing as a Gnome?  I laugh at myself.  Being a writer, my imagination sometimes gets the best of me.  Having not seen or heard anything strange since my last iced coffee, I’m still suspicious whereas the coffee doesn’t last as long as I want it.  Perhaps I’m drinking faster than realize.  Or need more.  (Yeah it the more coffee.)  

As soon as I arrive in the office, the phone rings.  People came to the window. Work started to pile up.  Drinking a sip at a time, I get into the rhythm of the day, the caffeine doing it thing keeping my mind up to snuff.   Copies needed to be made so I went into the other room.  It’s times like these when reality and imagination merge.

As I came around the partition of my desk and stopped…  “Oh My God.”  I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was an honest to goodness Gnome.  He had my mug tipped and he was taking a sip.  When he turned around and saw me, some of it spilling from his lips.  His eyes popped out.  The mug fell back to the desk when he let go.  For the next moment he measured me, and I him.  The little Gnome had gray hair and a little red faded hat, and his clothes were worn out. Me I had my mouth open and my copies dropped to the floor.

As he took off impossibly fast, I heard his cackle laughter.

The movement brought me back to life and I jumped for my frappuccino, plopping in my seat, my hand covering the top of the mug.  “What the Heck.”  My eyes darted everywhere.  I yelled, “Don’t you touch my frappuccino.”  Breathing hard.  I half believed it was truly a Gnome, or was I hallucinating. 

“You hear me.  Don’t touch my frappuccino.”

Nothing.

Until next time.

Little Fingers in My Coffee: The Story Continues

Gnomes are after my Iced Coffee again. A Loud Slurp “Ahhhh” I took another sip of the delicious flavor of Iced coffee, Mocha.  I placed a mark on the glass in permanent marker.  “Those Gnomes will not get the best of me.  I will catch them at it, if it’s the last thing I do.” 

A Delicate sip. “Yes. I love you.” My new habit each morning, I’m savoring each taste.  I place another marker on the glass as the liquid level goes down. 

I’ll get those gnomes.  If they try to drink my coffee I will find out and pulverize them.  Oh look at it.  It’s a thing of beauty. Mine.  I can’t take it any more.  “Ahhhh” another sip.  And another.  “Yum.”  I mark the glass again.

Okay I’m going to test them now. Bathroom break, I grab a book for a bit of light reading, well at least one page.  Leaving the beverage by my computer, I make my leave.  When I come back, Hah, the mark is still where the last level of liquid was.  My brows bunch in confusion. 

Oh darn those gnomes are wise to me just as I am wise to them.  They found out that I found out about them.  They’re hiding, maybe even went to another office.  Wait have I heard any scampering of small feet around my desk, or the whispered cackle of their laughter today?  They are playing me?  I’m sure of it, but if I know them, when I least expect it, they will be back to drink my scrumptious iced frappuccino.   I can’t allow that.  Not ever. 

“What,” Oh the disappointment.  My bottom lip protrudes out in a pout.  I drank the last of the sweet flavor.  I want more, must have more.  Let’s see during lunch I will quick drive and pick up another, or maybe at break it will be sooner.  Wait do I have any money?  

Until Next Time. 

Rule Number One.

Boom, crack, wack, “OUCH.”  I said as my chair flew back and I fell on my ARSE hitting my head.  Wow, I didn’t see that coming.  Of course all this hitting banging and thumping was only figurative not literally.  But it was still a big DUH.  

“I am a writer.”  I tell people when they ask what I do, smiling large. 

“Really what do you write?  Are you published?”  Is their response.  Not that this isn’t good its just hard to explain. To be published takes a lot.  So I give the usual trying to promote myself and my little bit of writing.  “I Blog and …” I excitedly explain my work in progress and tell them to visit my blog.  But if you look closely NO READERS.   (Why is that I ask myself. I don’t know I answer myself.) 

So how did I bump my head so hard and get my ARSE kicked so badly?

“Man that is the most boring blog post.” I thought.  I was going over some of the writing from my critiquing group.  “I founded a critiquing group to help not only with my writing but with other peoples writing.”  Then I though, “What can I say to help this person have a better blog post?”  Gears grinding in my head at a steady pace.  Nothing came to me right away.   “Okay what is the post about?”  I asked myself, what was the piece trying to do.  

(Thinking hard here.) Well let’s see, something happened and the person got to thinking about it and wanted to share.  They wrote the post as a ‘what happened’, but it wasn’t well thought out or had enough emotions that allowed the reader, in this case me, to feel what they, the writer, was feeling.  (During the class we had a long discussion about it but we couldn’t find a conclusion.)  

The grinding gears hit a snag and ground to a halt, like the fine needle of a record player flung across the record distorting the sound.  The sound being extremely loud and jarring.    

Hitting head with palm here.  “The better way to write the post would be in a short story format” 

DUH, Duh, Duh, duh, duh, Duh.  (Each ‘Duh’ is written in a different font.)  I see it. I get it.  If I want someone to understand, I need to write it in a setting where the reader can see more parts than the one. Short enough to not interfere with time, entertaining enough for the reader to want to continue reading, yet powerful enough to get the point across. 

Frankly I’ve had this light bulb moment before but with me I have to be hit more than once.   (Hence the falling on the arse thing.)   

Starting today I’m going to write rules down. Rule number one.  When writing blogs make it into a short story format.  (Gees, I saw a book about writing great short stories.  Now I have to buy it and add to my collection.) 

Until next time. 

My Critiquing Group.

I founded The Diligent Writers Critiquing Group.  This month we had it last weekend. 

What an exciting group of writers we have. There was some new people and some returning writers.  Everyone was able to read something and receive valuable feedback. 

The first thing I want to say is we have some talented writers in the group that are writing really interesting manuscripts.  One writer is a blogger, I had a short story that I wanted feedback on and one person started a new manuscript and wanted feedback on his ideas.  We also had several who are working on manuscripts. 

As each of us read over the period of the two hours we got into big discussions of different things and the best way to write it.  One thing most of us realize is that when we read not everything can be told within those words, and a lot of times things aren’t always thought through.  So when we read our work out loud, other can see things we can’t or don’t see things we need too. 

I love the big discussions we have.  I encourage everyone to put their ideas o the table.  How will we be better writers if we can’t handle a little feedback? For every time we gather for the group I learn a lot, I can’t speak for others but I am hopeful that the group learns from the feedback and each other. 

We have such a good time being together and learning and discussing that some don’t leave until one and a half hours later.  This is exciting to me.  I started the group with the intention of getting feedback for my work.  (I couldn’t find a group like that so I started one.)  Now that the group is together it is so much more.  It is very rewarding. 

I also have started several classes.  One is a smaller critiquing group for writers who have a manuscript done and are working on the revisions.  This class requires commitment until the project is finished. 

I also started another class for a foundation of fiction writing.  This is a 10 month commitment with over 100 exercises. 

As all of us work toward our goals and work on our projects these simple classes and groups setting can make a difference in each writer’s lives.  It gives me great pleasure in being a catalyst for growth within the group. 

Until next time.  

Picture by picture.com pictures.com

Little Fingers in My Coffee

One of the things I like to do in the morning is drink a Frappuccino by Starbucks.   Most stores carry it in their beverage section so I don’t have to hit the Starbucks store to get it.  But I love the flavor of iced coffee, well it’s mostly milked down coffee but I like it, especially the Mocha.  I’ll drink the Vanilla or any other flavor if the Mocha is out.   If I see there is only one Mocha left and someone is near I will run and grab it as fast as my feet will fly and my grasp can hold.

Even thought I buy the large one, the thing doesn’t last as long as I want it to.  I think there is a gnome or some kind of Imp in the office taking sips when I leave my desk.  I take two sips and the Frappuccino is half gone.  I take another and then its way too low.  I swear I’m going to mark the glass every time I take a sip to make sure those iced coffee loving gnomes don’t get any of my stuff.  (Eyes darting back and forth quickly, looking for any kind of hiding place they could be.)

I’m keeping a watchful eye out for these gnomes.  They better stay away from my Frappucino, and if I see one I’m gonna…

Ha Ha.  I’m just kidding.  Even a normal girl can have a moment of, wait did I just see a shadow of a gnome?  It was there a moment ago.

Until next time.

Working On My Latest Work In Progress

I’m in the mist of reading some fabulous books and wish with all my heart I could write like that.  I have read in the authors own words, she wished she could write like her very own favorite author.  So I feel like I’m in good company. The author is J. R. Ward and the series of books is called The Black Dagger Brotherhood.  (She is one of my favorites.  I have others which I will write about another time.) 

As much as I am enjoying reading about the brothers in the series.  My own characters in my head are wondering what is happening with them. Why haven’t I written their stories?  (If only it could be that easy.)  

So I’m taking time each week to work with my current work in progress  But my characters are patient, which that might not be such a good thing.  It they were screaming bloody murder to get their stories out maybe I wouldn’t spend so much time reading other authors.  (It’s like Duh.)

On my journey to write I am learning techniques.  Right now I am working on my second manuscript in my own series.  Even thought this is the second manuscript it is really the first story in the series.  The one that starts it all.  I feel there is much to do and a lot to still work out.  When I read a novel it seems so easy to just read and have things revealed to me as we progress.  As the author and the designer of the world and all its occupants it is with concern that I make decisions I am unsure of.  (You see things are revealed to me much as they would be for any reader reading a novel, which is quite interesting.)    

There is also my fear that the story will not be good enough.  J. R. Ward said the same thing when she started writing The Black Dagger Brotherhood.  She was terrified, even thought she was published she was so scared that she could keep up the level of writing up.  (This is my fear, can I even write one good novel.)  J. R. Ward says not to worry about that and to do the best you can at what ever level you are at the moment.  (Are you kidding me? “Okay heart palpitations here”. Must gain control. )  After a few deep breaths I gain some kind of control, but not much.  Any way back to my journey. 

Getting over fear is to face it right on.  As one of my characters tell me.  When I wrote the manuscript I’m working on now. I wrote what was in my head at the time. Now that I’m doing revisions I’m trying to figure out what I was thinking when I first wrote it.  (Weird I know) Sometimes I need to take a few days to let the paragraphs stir in my brain until I figure out what was going down. Then it just happens. A neuron fires in my brain and I’m off.  Most of the time it happens when I’m in the middle of reading someone elses' book and the thought about my story comes out.  The extremely strange thing of all is that what comes out about my story is completely different that what I was just reading.  (Weeeiiiirrrrd.)  

So my mantra over the next weeks will be Facing My Fears.  Facing My Fears, Facing My Fears, Facing My Fears, Facing My Fears, Facing My Fears, Facing My Fears.  Well you get the idea. 

Until next time. 

Book Review. Dark Lover by J. R. Ward.

The back cover reads:
The only purbred vampire left on the planet, Wrath has a score to settle with the slayers who murdered his parents centuries ago.  but when on e of his most trusted fighters is killed.—orphaning a half-breed daughter unaware of her heritage or her fate—Wrath must usher the beautiful female into the world of the undead…

Racked by a restlessness in her body that wasn’t there before, Beth Randall is helpless against the dangerously sexy man who comes to her at night with shadows in his eyes.  His tales of brotherhood and blood frighten her. But his touch ignites a dawning hunger that threatens to consume them both…

 This is my first time reading anything by J.R. Ward.  I really like this series.  It borders on my love for Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Dark Hunter Series.  J. R. Ward is a terrific writer.  I love her very real characters and the way she writes about them.  They are bigger than life but real in their emotions and feelings.  Beautifully written scenes with erotic undertones.  Incredibly hypnotic.  I can’t seem to put the books down.

More from J. R. Ward,

Lover Eternal
Lover Awakened
Lover Revealed.
Lover Unbound
Lover Enshrined.

To find out more about J.R. Ward click here for her website.  www.jrward.com

Book Review: The Kensei, A Lawson Vampire Novel. By Jon F. Merz

The back cover reads:
Meet Lawson, a cynical, quick-witted vampire chosen to be one of the elite:  A fixer, charged with protecting the Balance, the sacred secret existence of a race of vampires living and coexisting alongside humanity for millennia.  Part cop, part spy, and part commando—James Bond with fangs—he mixes shrewd cunning with unmatched lethality to get his job done and protect his people.  Lawson tries his best to dismantle conspiracies, dispatch bad guys, and live long enough to get home.

In The Kensei, a battle-weary Lawson heads to Japan for some much-needed rest and relaxation and some advanced ninja training.  But he no sooner steps of the plane and lands in the mist of a Yajuza turf war orchestrated by a shadowy figure know only as the Kensei.  With the help of former KGB assassin Talya, Lawson must put a stop to the Kensei’s organ-trafficking network, prevent the creation of an army of vampire human hybrids, and save his own skin in the process.

The Kensei iss a thrill ride of the first order, filled with exciting martial arts action and vibrant characters, set against the fascinating backdrop of the Tokyo underworld.

This is my first time reading Jon F. Merz.   The Kensei is written in the first person.  Although the book was really good and action packed.  I wish it was written in the third person.  So that we could have known what the other characters were thinking.   The author did a good job as letting us in, by the wonderful descriptions and witty dialogue.   I thoroughly enjoyed it.  As a person who is into martial arts and Zen, the fight scenes were good, the backdrop of Japan and Tokyo makes me want to fly there and see. Definitely a good read.

I probably will read the other book in the series.  This was the last one, which means I have to start at the beginning.  I knew I should have started at the beginning but sometimes when barrowing books at the Library a person gets what they can get.

More from Jon F. Merz:

The Fixer
The Invoker
The Destructor
The Syndicate

To find out more about Jon F. Merz see his website. www.jonfmerz.net.   

Book Review: Espersanza by Trish J. MacGregor.

The cover flap reads:
When Tess Livingston got off the bus at the roadside stop high in the Andes, she couldn’t quite remember how she got there.  She’s an FBI agent, and the last thing she remembered was tracing a group of counterfeiters to Ecuador.  But now she’s at the bodega Cielo, waiting for the bus to Esperanza – or at least that where her ticket says she’s going. 

Ian Ritter, a journalist from Minneapolis, is also at the Bodega. He was planning a trip to the Galapagos Island, and his limited Spanish isn’t up the explaining why he needs to chance to Bus 13 to Esperanza. 

Their meeting will change their lives forever.  For there are ghost in Esperanza—Hungry ghost who call themselves brujos, who can possess the bodies of living people, angry ghost who can’t let go of life and the sensual pleasures of the flesh.  The people of Esperanze are in great danger, and the rest of the world will be too, if the brujos cannot be defeated ands send from this mortal plan.  Ian and Tess are the living keys who will permit humanity’s guardian spirits to wage this war, and together they hold a power that neither can imagine alone.
And in the midst of this war, Tess and Ian will find a love that can transcend time, and a cause that not even death will overcome. 

This is my first time reading this author.  I adore the supernatural stories and fantasy fiction.  This one was very good. Lots of twist and turns, a real page turner.   I do have one complaint.  The end of the story was not well rounded.  What I mean by that is the end didn’t tell the story enough to satisfy my curiosity of the characters and what happened to them.  I believe that was done because sequels are coming. 
I would have like to know more about them.  That is all.  I really enjoyed this story and couldn’t wait to get to it even when my eyes closed of their own accord for sleep. 

To find out more about Trish J, MacGregor click here.  trishjmacgregor.com

Book Review: Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks

The cover flap reads:
When a mysterious young women named Katie appears in the small North Carolina town of Southport, her sudden arrival raises questions about her past.  Beautiful yet self-effacing, Katie seems determined to avoid forming personal ties until a series of events draws her into two reluctant relationships:  One with Alex, a widowed store owner with a kind heart and two young children: and another with plainspoken single neighbor, Jo.  Despite her reservations, Katie slowly begins to let down her guard, putting down roots in the close-knot community and becoming increasingly attached to Alex and his family.

But even as Katie begins to fall in love, she struggles with the dark secret that still haunts and terrifies her… a past that set her on a fearful, shattering journey across the country, to the sheltered oasis of Southport.

With Jo’s empathetic and stubborn support, Katie eventually realized that she must choose between a life of transient safety an one of riskier rewards…and that in the darkest hour, love is the only true safe haven. 

This is the first time reading one of Nicololas Sparks books.  I have seen some of his movies and have enjoyed them but to read the words is quite different.  I really enjoyed reading this tale.  There is a good reason his work has been turned into movies.  He is a very good storyteller.  My preference is still fantasy fiction although I will continue to read different genre during the year long challenge. 

This book challenge has brought me to new authors with wonderful stories but I have learned so much in their work.  My challenge was to read 50 books this year, so far I have read 23 including reading writing books.  I can only say that this challenge is one that I am happy to continue.

More from Nicholas Sparks.

The Notebook
Message in a Bottle
A Walk to Remember
The Rescue
A Bend in the Road
Nights in Rodanthe
The Guardian
The Wedding
Three Weeks with my Brother (with Micah Sparks)
True Believer
At First Sight
Dear John
The Choice
The Lucky One
The Last Song

To find out more click here:  nicholassparks.com

Update on Braveheart. Life after being fixed.

Braveheart is a rescued kitty I found one day.  He has been in my home since July 2010.  He was only four weeks old at the time and needed medical attention.  He grew up fast and became a burden with his fighting the other cats, spraying everyday and wanting to go outside.  One day he attacked me for a misunderstanding.  I placed him in a room away from the others and away from food and water.  It was hours before his first visit to the vets to be fixed.  He attacked me and I put him outside.  This broke my heart.

Braveheart was out in the world for three weeks before he came back to me.  He was in a grassy area near the alleyway by my house.  He was skinny and frightened, cold and hungry.  I was so happy to see him, I approached.  He remembered me and began meowing very loudly.  I coaxed him to follow me back to the house.  He did, all the way to the front door.  He was nearly under my feet as I walked.  I had to be careful not to step on him.

I reluctantly went into the house worried that he would think I wasn’t going to help him.  When I came out with food he had already began to walk away.  I shook the bowl of food.  As soon as he heard it he came running.  He was so hungry he knocked over the bowl attacking it and he meowed at the same time.  I wanted to stay with him but I had to go to work.  I wondered if he would be there when I came home.  He was and I was thrilled.  Originally I had intended him to stay outside and I would continue to care for him.  At the time he refused to come into the house, but I would not abandon him even if he was no longer under my protection.

A few days after his return he wanted to come back into the house.  I allowed him to.  The other cats hissed at him and he acquiesced to their punishment for leaving.  But after four days he started to have the same wild tendencies he had before.  The good news was I had an appointment for him to be fixed the next day.  This time I didn’t put him in the room and the next morning was able to get him safely to the Vets.

Now that he is home, fixed and recovering, he is learning to be a kitty of luxury.  He seems happy although touchy at times.  He still is recovering from the wild outside cats and the huge world he was unaware of living in my home.  Hopefully he will learn that he will be loved, pampered and protected for all the days of his life.

I look forward to having him sit on my lap getting a rub behind his ears and me telling him how happy I am to have him with us, and of course that I love him.  He in turn will learn to trust me and love me back.   That is all I want.

Until next time.  

Book Review: Little Bee by Chris Cleave

The Back Cover Reads:
This is the story of two women.  Their lives collide one fateful day, and one of them has to make a terrible choice, the kind of choice we hope you never have to face.  Two years later, they meet again—the story starts here…

Once you have read it, you’ll want to tell your friends about it.  When you do, please don’t tell them what happens.  The magic is in how the story unfolds.

This is my first time reading this author.  The story of the two women is based on reality, even though the characters are fictional.   I really liked both women, what they went through, and their dilemma.  I was caught up in there lives.

I will say right out I didn’t like the ending, only because I like reading ending where everyone is happy.  (Unrealistic I know.) This book is based on the real world.  That doesn’t mean that the book is not good.  It is absolutely good, well written and moving.  I couldn’t stop reading it.

Chris Cleave is the author of Incendiary which is another book I will have to check out.  Anyway read Little Bee, you will not be disappointed.

To find out more about Chris Cleave here:  chriscleave.com



Until Next Time

The Diligent Writers Critiquing Group April Meeting.

This is the 2nd meeting for the group from Meetup and it went really well.  We had nine people including me.  Some were from the Greater Cleveland Writers Group and a few were new writers.

Each person had a chance to read a bit of their work and received feedback.  I am happy to say we have some really good writers.  They also gave some really constructive feedback.

After the group left there were some writers that stayed behind to talk with me.  We had a discussion of a smaller group that I want to have.  A group of six writers with on going projects that want continuous feedback until the project is finished.   A few of them stated that they want to be involved.  I am pleased.

I am sorry to say the restaurant where we met was loud and very disruptive.  It was hard for the writers to read their own work and to hear the others read.  I could tell everyone including myself was extremely annoyed. I was very embarrassed.  I should have found a better location.  When I first started it I had a few tell me to just hold it at a coffee house.  I was worried about the noise then but we prevailed. After this last meeting there was no discussion I was making a call.

Previously I had a location picked out but the owners weren’t ready for us having just started the business. 

Here’s the good new:
Just as I was leaving the restaurant, the person I was just going to call walked in.  “I need to talk to you.”  I told her, and we did.  We agreed upon the new location and terms, but now I have to charge a nominal fee to cover the cost.  I think the group will be okay with the small amount as long as we don’t have the disruption of the restaurant.

I also have some good news.  The owner and I discussed the option of having a workshop at the location.  We have set a date, now I am working on putting it together.  I am so excited about the potential growth of the workshop.   If it goes well, we can have more and make the group a really good resource for writers.

I am so glad that I went to The Greater Cleveland Writers Group first.  From there I have met and networked with some wonderful people.  Then I started my own group and now we have the promise of a great future.  Until next time. 

Book Review: Jane and the Madness of Lord Byron. By Stephanie Barron

The Back Cover Reads:
The restorative power of the ocean brings Jane Austen and her beloved brother Henry to Brighton after Henry’s wife is lost to a long illness.  But the crowded, glittering resort is far from peaceful, especially when the lifeless body of a beautiful young society miss is discovered in the bedchamber of none other than George Gordon--otherwise known as Lord Byron.  As a poet and a seducer of women, Byron has carved out a shocking reputation for himself.—but no one would ever accuse him of being capable of murder.  Now it falls to Jane to pursue this puzzling investigation and discover just how “mad, bad, and dangerous to know” Byron truly is.  And she must do so without falling victim to the charming versifier’s legendary charisma, lest she, too, become a cautionary example for the ages.

I must confess this is the first time reading Stephanie Barron.  I love the Jane Austen stories of Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibilities, but with this book the author actually is writing about Jane Austen herself.  I found myself in the world of 1813 England which is what drew me to Jane Austen in the first place.  As a modern woman of today I do not wish to live in that era but Stephanie told the story from a point of view of strength for women.  I really enjoyed it.  It had humor and lots of really cool words for a writer like me to look up and fuss over.

The story itself weaved into a hypnotic mystery that had me turning page after page until the final reveal.  Very well done.   I will read more of this author.

More from Stephanie Barron and the Jane Austen Mysteries.

Jane and the Unpleasantness at Scargrave Manor.
Jane and the Man of the Cloth
Jane and the Wandering Eye
Jane and the Genius of the Place
Jane and the Stillroom Maid
Jane and the Prisoner of Wool House
Jane and the Ghosts of Netley
Jane and His Lordship’s Legacy
Jane and the Barque of Frailty
Jane and the Madness of Lord Byron.

To find out more about Stephanie Barron click here.  stephaniebarron.com