Monday, May 23, 2016

Tuesday's Inspiration _ Writing As A Disease inspired by William Carlos Williams #MFRWauthor

I've been looking at older posts and this one I wrote in 2014. Decided to give it new life since I decided this was a good thing to do. I've loved poetry and liked WWilliam Carlos Williams poems. But the quote really started me thinking and I know for me it's true.






Today's quote always makes me smile. A long time ago, a writer friend gave this to me as a small Christmas gift. Our critique group at that time tried to do things we needn't spend much on. That still holds with a limit. So here's the quote.

"I think of writing as a disease. You can't stop it." Once the writing virus invades, writing is something that must be done. Now, maybe this isn't so for some writers. There are those who write one book and never write another. There are some who write the same book over and over again. There are people who think about writing a book and never do. And there are closet writers who never let anyone know they are writing.

What about you? Has the disease of writing made you think you might like to do this? Now there are many things that go into becoming a writer. Some of these things aren't necessarily fun. You have to put your work out there for people to read. You need to send it to an editor. You have to grow a thick skin when reviewers say things you'd rather not hear. Or those people who you thought were your friends make comments about what you've written.

The thing about the disease of writing is how severe is your case. The only cure is to stop writing. What fun would that be?

Meandering On Monday With Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #Poetry #Dance

Meander 1 - Poem - Good Froday

Good Friday

Do you know?
All backs are turned
In denial of this knowledge.
The soul is left to face
A certain death of self.
The trial is held - a thief released
And innocence is guilty.
Shrill cries press on heavy air,
Crucify, yes, crucify.
Ours is the guilt.
No innocence cam make us feel our pain.
A crown of thirns pierces self
And scourging demons flailed.
Along the cobbled streets,
Curiosity's wandering stares
Behold the sight - the purging soul
Carries the ross of self
And nails are pounded steadily
Into encasing flesh.
Then mutely on the cross
Hangs rejected innocence.
There is no wish to ease the thirst,
Or mask the suffering soul.
The light is blotted.
Cines dark day,
Forsak Dance recital, Writingen, why, why me?
Surrender comes
Crucified soul
Now purified.

Meander 2 - Dance recitals. This is the time of year for dance recitals and I attended one to day. Three grandchildren performing in the same show. A marvel since usually they are in perhaps two or three shows. They performed brilliantly and I was very proud of them. I also was impressed by the places where some of the school's students will be spending their summers in dance. Kirov and Bolshi among others. I wondered if in the future one or more of these students will shine of the stage.

Writing - Had a little bit of a holdup here but I'm finally getting back. A new book released for pre-order and a lot of books either free or on sale. That's a plus but means a lot of promotion. Hard when often one has to look at a long list and check the calender. There were four in one day. Promotion unfortunately is part of writing so one persists.

Sunday, May 22, 2016

Sunday's Book - The Aries Libra Connection #MFRWauthor #Medicalromance


Jenessa is Aries, a nurse, union advocate and likes a good fight. 

Eric is Libra, Director of Nursing, and believes in compromise. 

Can these two find a way to uncover the underhanded events at the hospital? They’re on opposite sides but the attraction between them is strong. She’s a widow who fought to save her husband’s life during a code. She feels guilty because the love she and her husband shared had died before his death. He assisted at the code but he feels guilty since he was the one who was responsible for the short staffing the night her husband died. 

Now they face falling in love and trying to solve the problems between the nurse’s union and the president of the hospital’s Board who wants a take over of the hospital by his hospital group. Is their connection strong enough to survive?

Review:
eviewed by: Pam Stone,, MyShelf.Com

Jenny Robertson is all for the nurses union, and she plans on keeping the nurses union alive and well, even though they have been working several months without a contract. Mr. Bishop and Sandra Wallace want something different: they want the nurses and their union out of Eastlake Community hospital for their own personal gain.
Greg Bradshaw is hired as the Director of Nursing; he is hired for the job because of his good looks and to keep Jenny and the other nurses from making trouble. Things do not go the way that Mr. Bishop and Sandra want; they sure did not count on the chemistry between Greg and Jenny.
Janet Lane Walters is very good at putting the reader in the characters shoes, and boy, do you feel the heat between them right from the beginning. Now they must figure out a way to stop Bishop and Sandra before it’s too late to save their jobs and the hospital.

This was a capricious book; I could not put it down until I had finished reading. Ms. Walters makes you feel warm and cozy with the romance scenes between Jenny and Greg, and in my eyes, that makes it a really feel-good romance that every one will enjoy.

Saturday, May 21, 2016

Saturday - More lemonade _Opening Scene - Seducing the Attorney #MFRWauthor

Seducing The Attorney - up for pre-order


Chapter One

Bright morning sunlight glinted on the stained glass windows of the gray stone church. Lauren Grant left the memorial garden where the ashes of her sister and brother-in-law had been interred. They rested inside the stone wall near her parents’ site. She rubbed her arms to chase the chill of the autumn day.
Conversations flowed around her. She drew a deep breath to force back the tears ready to flow. She had to leave. Hearing one more word of sympathy might release the flood. As she dashed past the steps leading to the sanctuary door, she saw him standing with the pastor, two of Jim’s colleagues and a teacher friend of Carrie’s.
Tony Carlin. Tall, broad-shouldered with dark hair seemed in his element. She felt sure his piercing brown eyes compelled witnesses to tell the truth when he grilled them on the stand. Jim’s brother and the man she had to share custody of their ten month old nephew troubled her. She didn’t know why but sharing wasn’t part of his nature.
She reached her six year old sedan. In the sunlight the car appeared more blue than green. She slid into the driver’s seat, buckled up, started the car and drove through the streets of the Hudson River village to her classmate’s house. The action gave her time to control the urge to let tears cascade. She was on her way to pick up Jamie. The baby didn’t need to see her grief.
She parked in the driveway of the white frame house and bounded to the door. She rang the bell. With Jamie in her arms, her friend opened the door.
“Tee, Tee.” Jamie’s happy cries greeted her.
She held out her arms and he nearly leaped into them. “Miss me, squirt. Were you a good boy?”
Marsha smiled. “He was a dream. Wish my hellions were so easy. I have your notes from yesterday’s class. Will you be there tomorrow?”
“Have to be.” Lauren sank on the couch. “With mid-terms looming I can’t afford to miss another day.”
“Makes two of us. I made a list of classmates willing to watch Jamie. Do you have someone for tomorrow?”
Lauren nodded. “The young man who was Carrie’s student signed up for weekend duty. He watched Jamie several times so they could go out to dinner.” She struggled to fit her squirming nephew into his blue jacket.
“Study hard tonight,” Marsha said. “I’m sure there will be a quiz.” She walked with Laura to the door.
“She never fails to have a quiz.” Lauren wished she could follow her friend’s suggestion. Hopefully there would be time to copy yesterday’s notes as well as do battle with Tony over the guardianship issue. What did a playboy know about caring for an infant?
The trip from her friend’s house to Carrie and Jim’s took ten minutes. Jamie’s chatter had ceased the moment she’d fastened him into the car seat. At least he hadn’t cried the way he had when she brought him home from the hospital. Did he remember the accident?
She turned into the circle of the development and parked in the driveway of the unit. She’d lived here since the day of the accident and the deaths so Jamie would be in a familiar environment. After opening the garage door she lifted Jamie and carried him inside.
“Mama.”
She nearly lost her composure. “Just Auntie.” Tears she dare not shed burned her eyes. “Just Tee.”
“Tee.” He patted her face.
“Hungry?” She removed his jacked and popped him into the blue and yellow highchair. After setting a pan of water to heat she opened two jars of baby food and heated the meat and vegetable combination. She poured milk from one of his bottles into a sipping cup.
Jamie used the plastic container as a hammer. He quieted as soon as she fastened a plastic bib in place. She sat at the counter separating the narrow kitchen from the rest of the open first floor. With a spoon she fed him.
After Jamie finished both jars of food and drank milk from the cup she carried him upstairs to the spacious nursery. She changed his diaper and sat in the rocker to feed him the rest of the bottle.
When she placed him in the crib he was asleep. She turned on the monitor. For a time she studied him. How much he resembled his father and uncle except for his hazel eyes, a gift from Carrie.
With a sigh she walked downstairs, straightened the kitchen and leaned against the counter. Her grief refused to be contained any longer. As though a water pipe had ruptured tears gushed and gasping sobs accompanied the flood.
Attempting to control the gushing grief she gulped deep breaths. She cried for her nephew deprived of the parents who had adored him. The tears turned bitter when her own loss hit. Carrie and Jim had dragged her from a slide into self-destruction and helped her become a woman with a future. The sobs morphed into mourning for the couple who would never reach their potential and never see their son become a man.
As she wiped her eyes thoughts of Tony rose. He had as little family as she did. Only Jamie belonged to both of them. Her body shook. He was determined to shove her from their nephew’s life. His vision of her was based on a single meeting four years ago in California, a few months after Carrie and Jim had helped straighten her life. A few of her rebellious quirks had remained.
Not now. Not for a long time.
Two years ago she had returned to the area where she and Carrie had grown up. She’d started college. When Jim had accepted a position at a nearby research laboratory she’s been happy. Carrie had found a position teaching English at one of several local colleges. Since their arrival she’d seen them several times a week.
Grains of resentment abraded her thoughts. In the five months Carrie and Jim had lived here Tony had never visited once. Her sister and brother-in-law had trekked to the city maybe three times to see him. They hadn’t wanted to intrude on his busy work and social life.
What was wrong with him? Didn’t he care?
Stop it.
She didn’t know why Carrie and Jim had named Tony and her as co-guardians for Jamie. She didn’t know what kind of relationship Jim had with his brother. She only knew she missed them. Fresh tears began.
The doorbell rang. She blew her nose and blotted her eyes, a useless gesture. Tears continued to drip. The glass panel of the door and her tears blurred the man’s face but she knew the dark hair and broad shoulders meant he had arrived. She opened the door.
In an instant his arms enfolded her. She pressed her face against the gray wool of his overcoat. As he stroked her back Lauren fought the desire to allow the comfort he offered make her forget they weren’t friends.
His hands slid lower. He cupped her rear pulling her against his erection. Lauren raised her head to protest. Before a word emerged his mouth covered hers in a kiss shooting dolts through her body.
One of his hands shipped beneath her sweater and stroked her skin. Slowly he backed her from the door, past the kitchen and the stairs leading to the second floor. He steered her toward the couch. His tongue played along her lips. Awareness struck. He didn’t like her. Why this passionate assault? A reason shoved into her head. He would use her response against her when she asked for sole custody of Jamie.
She jerked her mouth from the drugging kiss. “Stop!”
“What?”
“Stop. You’ve gone too far.”
“I haven’t gone far enough.” His dark eyes glittered with lust.
She pulled free and nearly tumbled over the arm of the couch. His hands on her arm prevented a fall. She glared. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re wrong.”
He grinned. “I don’t think so. I want you. You want me. Believe me, it’s going to happen.”
A cry from the monitor ended the discussion. She ducked under his arm and ran upstairs. Hopefully once she rescued Jamie, Tony would be on his way back to the city.


* * *

Friday, May 20, 2016

Friday - Making lemonade - Book for Pre-release.#MFRWauthor






















What do you do when your guest doesn't appear. You find a way to make lemonade. Seducing the Attorney is the fifth book of the At First Sight Series. The book is about assumptions and we all know what happens when you assume. The hero has a lesson to learn.

Seducing The Attorney
 Book 5 in the At First Sight Series.

Thursday, May 19, 2016

Thursday's Opening Scene _Seducing the Doctor #MFRWauthor #Medical #Motorcycles

Seducing The Doctor

Chapter One

“You’re next.”
Matt Blakefield choked on the piece of wedding cake he’d been about to swallow. “Not in a million years. Why don’t you pick on one of our unmarried friends like Tony or Jules?
“They aren’t here,” his sister Allie said.
Matt’s gaze slid around the long table in the inn’s dining room spearing each couple with a glare. Friends and family had gathered to celebrate this morning’s wedding of his brother to the mother of his nine year old so.
“I have a friend who you would like,” Allie said.
Meg grinned. “She would be perfect.”
Matt pretended to shoot his sisters. “No sale.” He dropped his napkin on the table.
“Remember the curse.” Mark’s sly smile teased. “None of us has escaped. Maybe there’s a woman from your past you can’t forget.”
Was there? Yes. But the reason he couldn’t forget her showed him in a bad way. Time to hit the road. With this decision made he wondered how he could flee before his sisters set up a date. As if in answer to his wishes his cell vibrated. Salvation.
“Matt here. Sorry you missed the wedding…I’ll tell him.” He looked up. “Jules said congrats. Sorry he was on a hunt and couldn’t book a flight in time… So what did you learn?”
His friend and investigator’s news was all Matt wanted to hear. “I’m on my way. Yes, today.”
As if he’d stay here where plans he wanted no part of were being laid. He’d been present for the important event. He had no reason to linger and a huge need to escape. Although he wasn’t to meet Jules until Monday morning the opportunity was perfect.
He rose. “Have to leave. Jules has info I need on this year’s makeover house.”
“On the weekend?’ His father, CEO of the Good Magazine Group and recently married to his teenage love arched an eyebrow.
“Yeah, it’s the Smiton house. You know the one I’ve always been interested in. I want to use this as the project for converting a house from energy sucking to energy efficient. Jules has a line on the owner’s location. I want the contract signed so we can start work soon.” He didn’t mention how his mother had loved the house and talked about the mystery of the heir’s disappearance. There’d been no thought of the man’s death, just that he had gone to Europe to live.
His father’s forehead wrinkled. “If there’s a problem, find another house. Who knows what condition the Smiton house is in. No one has lived there for more than twenty five years.”
“I’ve checked. The house is solid.”
“Find one with the owners in residence. They’ll appreciate the free upgrade.”
Matt groaned. “And spend hours suggesting changes that won’t work or constantly complain about the inconvenience. Not on a bed.” Matt rose. Another thing he failed to mention was his plan to live in the house.
He kissed his new sister-in-law’s cheek. “Let Mark spoil you and Davy. My brother has a few years of presents to bestow.” He made his way around the table kissing the women and clasping hands with the men.
Matt strode to the cloakroom to retrieve his leather jacket and helmet. He’d planned to hang out in one of the cottages until tomorrow but not with the schemes buzzing with the ladies. He leaned over the counter, kissed the middle-aged woman’s cheek and dropped a ten spot in the tip tray.
He dashed out the door and down the steps to the parking lot and his bike. As the engine roared to life the relatives gathered and the protests began.
So much for a quick getaway. He braced for arguments.
“Stay,” his new sister-in-law called. “You have one of the cabins to yourself.”
“We won’t bother you, I promise,” his step-mother said.
She wouldn’t but the we didn’t include his sisters. “Another time.”
“Matt, it’s going to rain.” The voices of four females rose in a chorus.”
“I won’t melt.” He slapped his helmet on his head. With a spray of gravel he headed to the road.
Exit Matt fleeing a gaggle of women intent on ending his bachelor state.
“You’re next.” Had someone shouted that or was his imagination playing trips. Next wasn’t on his agenda.
He waved. “Not today. Not this year. Maybe never.” The engine’s roar drowned any comments.
Visions of being followed by a parade of match-makers populated his thoughts. Instead of heading for the interstate he decided to cross from Vermont into upstate New York. Exploring new territory was the perfect ending to his great escape.
Once they’d found the perfect mate why did happy couples believe every bachelor should be part of a twosome? He wasn’t ready to take a wife or enter into a long term situation. He enjoyed his single state and found pleasure with a variety of women. Granted there’d been a dry spell lately…not his fault. He hadn’t met a woman since high school who had tempted him for more than a night or two. Even the vanished woman had been a fool’s dream.
As he sped along the serpentine road a misting rain began. Moments after crossing into New York the storm turned earnest. Water fell in wind-driven gales. Thunder rumbled like a mad drummer slamming a kettle drum. Lightning streaked across the sky in a brilliant display. Although the time was late afternoon the darkness spoke of night.
Time to find a motel, bed and breakfast or a rustic inn with a room for the night.
He reached a crossroads and paused to read the signs. The nearest town was forty miles away. He dug out his smart phone. No service. With a groan he wiped the face plate of his helmet and chose a road. The headlights cast a tunnel through the gloom. Shadows impinged on the narrow band of light. He shot down the road, off on an adventure hopefully with a dry room at the end of the road.


* * *

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Wednesday's Writer's Tip - Writing ABCs - Character - Traits

Having given the character a name, one needs to look at their traits. What are their pluses and minuses. Every writer has a way of making this discovery. I happen to use Astrology to find mine.

What I really think about this is there are three ways a character comes alive. There is the face he or she shows the world. We've all known people who appear to be one way and yet are really perhaps not the opposite but they are different from what they let people see. What you see may not be what you get. These differences are what makes a character different from every other character in fiction and there are thousands of characters. So I list several traits each of my characters may portray.

There is the character's true nature. This includes the little secrets they keep inside, the things they don't want anyone to know. Or the things another character needs to dig to fine and give the character a second dimension. This comes to a character's heart. I once wrote about a character who seemed on the outside to be a decent and helpful person but inside he was someone quite different. And his inner self wasn't one you wanted to know.

All characters even the coolest ones have emotions and these emotions cause them to act. Maybe they respond to situations in a way different from their inner or outer natures. So I try to assign a few emotional traits that may or may not be in conflict with the character's natures. Reactions and actions are emotional responses.

So look at your characters and take them from the one or two dimensional creatures and make them three dimensional. Readers will see this and respond to your stories.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Tuesday's Inspiration - Looking back to 2010 - The Writer's Journey #MFRWauthor

Years ago, I bought The Writer's Journey by Christopher Vogler and started to read it but for some reason I put it on the shelf and didn't finish it. While doing these things to inspire people in their writing I pulled it off the shelf and started to read.

He maps out a sort of 3 act arc. This begins in the ordinary world. This made me think about the ordinary world. This is different for each character one creates and this means one has to build a bit of the character's world before the story begins. For me this means that after I've decided what my story is going to entail, I have to think about what is going on in a character's life and what makes them want to leave this world that may be comfortable or uncomfortable. He talks about :The fish out of water." Sometimes I've used this but sometimes I've made the fist be in the water and the changes that come from without. Mrs. Miller in the first two stories of the mystery series is in her world and her world is threatened. In the third and fourth books of the series she does step out of her world and I think when I get to the fifth, she will again leave her world and in the sixth she will return to her world being disturbed by events. So reading just a few paragraphs has made me think about the stories I've written and the ones I'll be writing.

Monday, May 16, 2016

Meandering On Monday with Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #Poetry #amwriting

Meander 1 - Poem - Maundy Thursday

Maunday Thursday

The feast of love is over.
Night has come, indeed,
The feast of bread and wine
Is eaten and devoured.
Love shared, sad and quiet,
Companion laughter ends.
The cup is passed.
Communion for remembrance.
Knowledge comes. Push it back.
Pass over. Be gone dark night.
The moonlit garged
Pretends to hold a peace,
Fears rush in. Haunting, rocking fear.
Oh, take away this cup.
Blot out the pain. Turn and see
Friends are fast asleep.
A growing pain, surging, racking tears
Nearly unto dearh.
Oh, for a friend's arms close.
The rms are there.
A friendship kiss.
Secure and safe.
Take away the cup.
Alone. Betrayed.
Soul mutilated.

Meander 2 _Publishing industry.- Around me I hear cries of doom. Having published for many years I've seen what's happening today has happened before. Once there were hundreds of places where short stories could be placed for publication. I began this way and slowly the markets dried up or died. In fact I had two stories for children paid for by magazines that went dark before the stories were published. Made me feel sad but there was nothing I could do to change the situation. Then came poetry. There were many magazines and other places for poems. The market changed and these resourced driend up. The same happened iwth paperback books. The market dwindled and soon there were very few left. We're seeing the same thing happening today with publishing. Small publishers are slowly dwindling. Authors are finding other ways such as self publicaation. The morl of this story is staying for the long haul. Once things dry up other venues will open.

Meander 3 - Writing. Still going slowly but hopefully the pace will pick up. Working on two stories at present with one waiting in the wings.

Sunday, May 15, 2016

Sunday's Book - Seducing The Doctor #MFRWauthor #Medical #motorcycles




You’re next.”

Those words send Matt Blakefield fleeing his brother’s wedding. Marriage or even falling in love is the last of his desires. What he wants to learn is the identity of the owner of the house he wants to use as a make-over for the magazine he edits, Good Livin’. A fall rainstorm and a pine tree sends his motorcycle into a spin and into the arms of an old acquaintance, a girl he hurt in high school.

Cassie Moore has borrowed a cabin from one of her partners in a cardiology practice to come to terms with a broken engagement. The news came via an email. Her fiancĂ©e had married another woman just weeks before their scheduled marriage. The appearance of Matt at her door brings an old attraction into full bloom. She realizes love is lurking but he’s a player and she needs to forget the connection.

Is it possible that a weekend of love can become a lifetime?