The 52nd Issue
Wait! It’s that time again already!  Didn’t I just do this yesterday?

Obviously, nothing stops the calendar. The days keep marching on. Time for updates on writing, events, works in progress, an interview with an award-winning author and music.  And to shake things up a little, I’m also introducing a contest.

Ready?

Let’s rock.
 
Writing
 
In addition to my efforts as a writer, I also teach at a local college. One of the things that drives me crazy is students who wait until the last possible minute to submit their assignments. More often than not, these efforts will include multiple errors.  This can be anything from spelling and grammar issues to fragments and run-on sentences.

Annoying. 

And it usually costs them points.

So many mistakes can be discovered and corrected by simply proofreading your work. This same point holds true for authors.  It doesn’t matter if you’re a newbie or on a bestseller’s list. These mistakes can disrupt even the best story.
These factual errors irritate me. It’s worse when they appear in a new novel produced by one of the major publishers. No doubt there was a team of editors charged with checking and doublechecking the manuscript. Or maybe the editors just assume Mr. Bestseller would never make such blatant mistakes.

Yeah, right!

I just finished such a book. It was gigantic. More than 800 pages in length. There was a lot of action and backstory here.  I’ve read several novels by this author before and usually enjoy them.  But early on, there was an error, where a character, who had lost his right arm at the shoulder during the war, suddenly had full use of that arm.  That irked me.  I brushed it off and kept reading. 

And then it happened again!

Now the character uses the missing arm and hand to scoop up a gun, execute some type of ninja warrior Matrix style move and fire three shots at his assailant.  All with a limb and fingers he doesn’t have!

Such sloppiness should have been caught by the author early on and certainly by someone on the editing team.
After finishing the book, I’m less than pleased. Chances are I’m not likely to read something else by this guy.  
Yet there’s a lesson here. This makes me strive that much harder to study every detail, every line, every bit of dialogue that goes into my novels. I don’t want to disappoint the readers with sloppy work. If I’m able to hook a reader with one book, I hope they’ll enjoy it and return for more.
 
Proofreading is an essential part of the process. Take the time and get it right! Your readers will thank you.

Events
 
I’ve created a monster! As this newsletter goes ‘live’ I’m in the midst of six weekend shows in a row! What moron booked me with back-to-back events, three of which run both Saturday and Sunday?  What was he thinking?

Oh wait!

That was me.

Never mind.
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Upcoming shows include the Hazel Park Art Fair on August 24 and 25, the South Haven All Craft Fair on August 31 and September 1, Paw Paw’s Wine & Harvest Festival on September 7 and 8, Saugatuck’s Art in the Park on September 14 AND Coldwater’s Apple Harvest Festival on September 21.

Works in Progress
 
The crime novel keeps moving forward. 52,000 words is right around the corner and more scenes keep coming to mind.  I’ve been working on the timeline, so it’s easier to identify any scenes that are needed to tie everything together.

To add to my efforts, ideas for the next Jefferson Chene mystery are also refusing to wait their turn.  It’s been my practice when something like this occurs to get to the keyboard and write.  Only after doing that am I able to switch gears and get back to Leo Agonasti and the crime novel.
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My target for Leo’s story is 80,000 words by the end of October. We’ll see if that’s feasible.  

The Contest

 Seeking Jamie Richmond

This year I’ve been participating in many art festivals and events to display and sell my books.  As any salesperson worthy of a commission would say, you need multiple pitches to attract customers to your products.  That means I have one set that relates to the Jefferson Chene police procedural mysteries, a pitch for the new release Rules of Desperation and of course a different spiel for the Jamie Richmond series.

Truth be told, Jamie is one of the most memorable characters I’ve created. She’s intelligent, clever, loyal, diligent, loving and possesses a real smart-ass attitude, along with a sharp sense of humor. Did I mention she’s a redhead? Yep!
Physically, Jamie has been described as slender, standing about five foot seven, with emerald green eyes. She’s in her early thirties.

One of my pitches for the Jamie books comes into play when a redheaded female passes near my table.  Author Cecilia A. Garcia, who has shared my booth on a few occasions, refers to this pitch as ‘shameless’. 

I’ll ask the lady if by chance she modeled for one of the covers. That usually leads to a smile.  Sometimes it also leads to a sale.

As Cecilia said ‘shameless!’

Recently I shared this with Melissa Keir at Inkspell, who publishes the Jamie series.  She replied, ‘I hope you have a bunch of redhead women of various ages who follow you from event to event, just to talk about your books.’
And that’s when inspiration struck.

Why not have a little contest, seeking possible Jamies?

From now until the end of September, any ladies can submit a picture holding up one of the five Jamie Richmond mysteries. You don’t have to be a redhead.  You could share Jamie’s spirit of curiosity, stubbornness and vitality. While there is no redhead on the cover of “Vanishing Act” it’s still an integral part of the series.

The grand prize winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card.  Second, third and fourth place winners (in the US) will receive an autographed copy of “Stealing Haven”. If you’re a winner outside the country, you’ll get a free e-book. Winners will be drawn at random.

To sweeten the deal, the winners’ names will be used for characters in an upcoming Jamie Richmond novel.           Pictures can be posted on my Facebook Author page, Instagram page or sent directly to me at [email protected].

Ready for your closeup?

​Author Spotlight
 
 I’ve known Brenda Hasse for several years now.  We’ve often crossed paths at some of the same events. It’s time to learn more about this talented multi[le award winning writer.

Tell us a little about yourself and how you became an author.

My story is one of irony. As a child, I hated to read. I would rather clean my bedroom than read a book. It was hard for me. I had difficulty learning to read and was labeled as a ‘slow reader’ during my elementary school years. I was pulled from my classroom weekly and worked with a paraprofessional to improve my reading skills. Maybe I developed my storytelling during those years. I think many people get the urge to write a book during their lifetime, as did I. I wrote my first novel, improved my writing the more I wrote, and have now finished my 17th book. I have received several awards for my writing. I have also written for a few magazines too. I live in Fenton, Michigan with my husband, Chuck, and two cats, Petey and Max.

Do you ever imagine one of your novels being made into a movie or television series? 

Writing a novel is hard work. It’s a lot of keeping your bottom in your chair and fingers on the keyboard. I think it is only natural to want to share something that you have created with others, whether it being a sculpture, painting, photography, or writing. Since some people don’t like to read, having a novel made into a movie or television series is another medium in which to reach those people and have them enjoy your work. I believe every author hopes to have their novel appreciated by as many people as possible.

Any favorite actors you’d cast in the lead roles?

I don’t have any favorite actors/actresses. I would leave that decision to the experts. I believe it would be necessary to have at least one well-known actor but hope an actor who is just starting out would get the opportunity to catapult their career by being cast too.

What is your writing process? For instance, do you do an outline first? Do you write the chapters in sequence?
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I define myself as a plantser. I usually have a rough outline and always know how the book will end before I begin to write. I’m flexible in my writing and will change or add to the storyline while I write. I have tried pantsing, but usually delete 2/3 of what I have written, put together an outline, and begin again. As far as my process, I write a rough draft, go through it a second time fleshing out the characters and details (developmental edit), then edit once before sending my novel to beta readers. While my novel is being read by my beta reader, I work on writing the blurb and designing the book cover. Based on my beta reader’s recommendation, I make changes, edit at least twice and ensure the format is correct before publishing.

Tell us about the characters in your latest book.
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My latest book, The Healer’s Apprentice (expected publication October 1, 2024), is the first book in The Town Witch trilogy. There are 28 characters in the book, with several featured in all three books. The romantic suspense trilogy is set in Edinburgh, Scotland in 1788 – 1829. Haggadah Blyth is the main character. Book 1 is how Haggadah becomes the town healer.

Book 2 – The Cursed Witch is based on a true event – Anna Stewart was 18 years old when she was declared dead. She was buried in a graveyard. Within 24 hour, two homeless men dug her body up to sell it to the anatomy theater for dissection by the medical students, but when they threw her body on the ground, Anna sneezed, sat up, and the men ran away leaving her amongst the graves. The Cursed Witch is about who tried to kill Anna and why.

The third book – The Parade of Souls takes place on the Eve of Saint Mark (April 24). Haggadah discovers a young lady, Sophie, standing outside the graveyard. The town witch has Sophie accompany her to sit on the stoop of the church and watch the parade. Between the hours of 11:00 and 1:00, spirits rise from the graveyard and pass through the closed door of the church. The spirits are the souls of the people who will die in the coming year. Unfortunately, Sophie recognized one of the spirits and hopes to stop them from dying.

Do the characters all come to you at the same time or do some of them come to you as you write?

The main characters are established before I begin writing. However, secondary characters tend to appear as I write and flesh out the storyline.

What is your latest book about?
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My latest book is The Healer’s Apprentice. It tells the story of how Haggadah became the town witch, her romance with Tavish, and the struggles she faces in her life.

Can you share an excerpt?
Here is an excerpt from The Healer’s Apprentice –
 
Chapter 1 
 
Edinburgh, Scotland – February 1786
 
Haggadah leaned out of the room’s only window and snatched the damp clothing from the rope that spanned the width of the narrow cobblestone lane. She stared at the chaos of people that resembled scrambling ants in the crowded passageway several stories below. A steady drizzle of rain dampened her face, forcing her back inside to help her mother, Freya, pack what little they had. “It’s starting to rain.”

       A young woman of ten and six, Haggadah watched her mother shove a nub of a candle, a stale half-loaf of bread, a jar of preserves they received as a gift, and a small tin containing two coins into the carpetbag.

       The satchel had been a gift from Frey’s wealthy employer, or so Haggadah had been told. Even though her mother tried to shield her from the harsh realities of life, Freya confided the truth of her pregnancy. As a maid, she had been raped by her employer. Once the growing child within her became apparent, the man’s uncompassionate wife fired Freya from her job to save the wealthy family from social embarrassment or perhaps continue the masquerade of her marriage. Cast out into the street, Freya was left to struggle on their own. With a few coins to her name, the expectant mother became a tenant in a crowded room on Niddry’s Wynd, giving her a roof over her head.

       When it came time for the baby to be born, Frey’s labor was long and laborious. Concerned, one of the women fetched the town healer to help with the difficult birth. As the infant was placed in her arms, she stared at her daughter's innocent, cherub face. Even though her pregnancy had cost her dearly, she considered the baby a blessing.

       Haggadah knew she was loved, for her mother often told her so. Together, the pair found a way to survive. After all, they had no other choice.

       Six months ago, they watched from a distance on the first day of August as the Grand Master Mason, Lord Haddo, laid the cornerstone for the construction of the South Bridge and announced the demolition of the building to make way. Now that the construction contract was awarded, word spread throughout the building of the tenants' immediate eviction. The crew would begin tearing down the tenements by day’s end.

       Haggadah handed the damp, tattered garments to her mother.

       Three resounding knocks from a strong fist sounded upon the door, warning the pair that their time in the tiny apartment had ended.

       Panic sparked within Haggadah’s heart as she looked at the closed apartment door and then at her mother. “Mum?”

       Freya frantically glanced around the room as footfalls echoed from the staircase. She looked at her daughter and nodded toward the superstitious herb handing on the wall. “Grab the bay leaves. We must hurry.” After placing the wadded clothing in the center of their threadbare blanket, she tied the opposite corners together, forming a makeshift knapsack. The mild exertion caused Freya to cough. She paused to inhale a wheezing, deep breath and gather her strength.

       Haggadah pulled the bay leaves from the nail where they hung. Even though she and her mother attended Mass every Sunday, always praying for a better life, they believed in the silly wives’ tale of the herb warding off any witches or evil doers. Haggadah gave her mother the dried and dusty herb before scanning the dirty, bare walls and room. It was odd to see it empty of the twenty people usually huddled together and sleeping on the floor. She watched her mother place the talisman in the carpetbag.

       Heavy footfalls echoed on the stairs as the tenants from the upper two floors evacuated the building. Haggadah was thankful she would never climb the twelve flights of stairs to get to their apartment again, but where would she and her mother live now? The four walls were the only home she had ever known.

       “Put on your cloak.” Freya ordered as she took both garments from the peg on the wall and handed one to her daughter. “Then slip your arms through the ties,” she gave the makeshift knapsack to her daughter, “and carry this on your back.” A cough rattled deep within her chest once again.

       Concern masked Haggadah’s face as she adjusted the knapsack on her back and waited with her hand on the doorknob for her mother to catch her breath. She took one last look at the room. Even though their home was often cold during the winter, reeked from the excrement in the bucket used as a chamber pot, and the air was filled with smoke from the small fireplace, at least it protected them from the weather. No longer would they have that luxury.

       “We must go.” Freya picked up the carpetbag, jingling the two coins in a small tin at its bottom.

       Haggadah opened the door, stepped forward, and nearly collided with a barrel-chested man rushing down the stairs.

       Freya stepped forward and turned to grasp the doorknob. She saw the nearly full bucket in the corner of the room. No one had thrown its contents to the street below at the stroke of ten the previous night. It was of no concern to her now. The single mother left the room, closing the door.

       Looking over her shoulder to ensure her mother was behind her, Haggadah descended the stairs at a slow pace, hoping her matriarch could do so without becoming winded. As she stepped onto the cobblestone pavement of Niddry’s Wynd, she looked heavenward at the gray morning sky. Its continued drizzle reflected the sorrow in her heart. Haggadah pulled her hood onto her head and turned, expecting her mother. Instead, a nicely dressed family stepped onto the narrow, cobbled street. She assumed they had lived on a floor in the center of the building where the more well-off families resided. Haggadah was thankful to have lived on the upper floors rather than the lowest, where the poorest of the poor resided. The stench from the dumped chamber pots permeated their walls, making it unbearable to open windows for a reprieve from the stench.

       When Freya joined her, they followed the parade of former residents through the narrow passage. Haggadah envied the wealthy who could afford a room at boarding houses, that is, if they could find one. Like many others, she and her mother’s future looked bleak. Echoes of fussy babies, inquisitive children, and footfalls droned like a marching garrison as people walked toward the main street.

       Haggadah stepped over a rivulet of sewage streaming downhill to Nor Loch. She looked over her shoulder at her mother, who was coughing again. “Where should we go?” She flattened herself against the wall, allowing a robust woman to pass by.

       Freya shook her head. “I don’t ken.” With only a few coins to their name, she knew they could not afford a room. She reasoned the money would be better spent on food. The ill woman thought of the only place to bide their time until nightfall. “This way.” Freya headed north toward Nor Loch with her daughter following.

       Haggadah’s shoulder was bumped by several people in the narrow passage as she tried to follow closely behind her frail mother.

       Freya stopped abruptly, causing her daughter to collide with her back. She grabbed Haggadah’s arm, silently encouraging her to do as she did and flatten herself against the stone wall. A hooded figure stopped before them.

       Haggadah held her breath as her steel gray eyes stared into the emerald eyes of the old hag staring back at her. She wished the woman with the renowned reputation as a witch would move on. What was seconds seemed like several minutes. Gooseflesh pricked her arms as the old woman stared with intrigue at Haggadah until she satisfied her curiosity. The old woman glanced at Freya, then moved on.

       Exhaling, Haggadah turned to her mother. “That was the healing witch, wasn’t it?”

       Freya nodded. “Aye, Grizel.”

       “What is she doing in this part of the city?”

       “It’s none of your concern, nor mine.”

       Haggadah watched as people in the passage stepped aside, giving a wide berth for Grizel to pass through the narrow lane.

       Everyone knew where the town healer lived. All they had to do was look at the night sky and see the billowing green smoke emanating from her chimney as she conjured in her ancient cottage several blocks away.

       Haggadah shivered as a chill went up her spine. She hoped to never cross paths with the old hag again.
 
What’s the next project you’ll be working on?

I’m not sure. I’ve thought about rewriting A Lady’s Destiny, but I have several other storylines in mind.

You can learn more about Brenda and her books at her website.
www.BrendaHasseBooks.com 

Music

Many of the top hits from the band Journey remain popular today.  The original band, formed in the early 1970s, with Steve Perry as the lead vocalist, had a record of 19 top 40 singles and had more than 20 albums achieved gold and platinum status.  They were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2017.

Here are my top five favorites.
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Don’t Stop Believing. https://youtu.be/1k8craCGpgs?si=4-S1mx1nZ5k5i_SE
Faithfully: https://youtu.be/OMD8hBsA-RI?si=vSvVfBb8nDSztGzS
Any Way You Want It: https://youtu.be/atxUuldUcfI?si=lZBwGB6gKbUV6Bg7
Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’: https://youtu.be/fTkHFQC3wow?si=3xmfixtWAYG3mdUQ
Open Arms:  https://youtu.be/i5pUOVC50Y8?si=3slu77Al24EL3nEI