April! The time of taxes. The time for Spring to arrive. The end of teaching the Winter semester. Time for baseball. Sunshine and warmer temperatures (depending on what part of the globe you’re in). Of course, it’s that day when I share my thoughts about writing related subjects, a peek behind the curtain at current projects, upcoming events, an interview with an incredibly talented author, and music. Must. Have. Music. Ready? Let’s roll. Writing While I don’t teach creative writing courses at the college, it’s not uncommon for some of my students to express interest in my efforts writing mysteries. A conversation last week centered around the issue of outlines. Both students were surprised that I never used them. To me, outlines tend to stifle creativity. It works better for me to start with a story idea, a main character or two and just writing a scene. Often my subconscious kicks in, and one idea triggers another. And another. And another. It’s not uncommon for me to have an inspiration that hits, where a particular scene or an exchange of dialogue comes to mind. I’ll write that and figure out later where it will actually fit into the story. One student asked how long I’ve worked this way. I related a memory from elementary school. The sister who was teaching English gave us an assignment. Write an outline for a story and submit that on Wednesday. Then write the story and turn it in on Thursday. I tried to explain to the nun that there was no way I could do this. She calmly listened to my argument, shook her head and wouldn’t budge. So, I did the only thing that made sense to me. I went home and wrote the story. When it was done, I went back and wrote the outline. Both assignments were turned in on the appropriate days. The good sister caught me after class on Thursday and beamed a smile. “See, you can write an outline!” I didn’t have the heart to admit my misdirection. The main thing was the work was done and she was satisfied. Outlines aren’t for everybody. Some people find them necessary to keep their story in line. But many authors I know prefer to use the ‘seat of the pants’ approach. That’s not to say we don’t do a lot of research for our work. It’s just a different approach to the creative process. Work in Progress There’s a line from an old rock song: ‘What a long, strange trip it’s been,’ that keeps running through my mind. After far too long, I’ve finally been able to get back to work on the crime novel, featuring Leo Agonasti. Some of you may recognize Leo from his appearances in the second and third Jefferson Chene novels. I received so many comments about this character that it made sense to focus on Leo’s story. When he encounters Chene, he’s a retired mobster, living a quiet life. But to get a real understanding for the character, I took him back to 1992, where he’s still actively working. Reading over the early draft has brought Leo and his best friend, Max, back into the spotlight. Not only have I been able to edit and clean up the earlier work, but new scenes are surfacing rapidly. One of my challenges is to keep the timeline accurate. With luck, more progress will be made soon. Events My calendar is filling up nicely. I’ve already participated in three events since March. Interacting with readers, discussing my books and the characters is always appealing. Up next will be the Maple Syrup Festival in Vermontville on April 27 and 28. With the arrival of May, I’ll start participating in outdoor events. Hopefully Mother Nature will be kind on those days. On May 11, I’ll be in Niles for the Spring Market. The following week, May 18 and 19, I’ll be at Cornwell’s in Marshall for the Craft Show. The Interview It is surprising to admit that Deb Reed and I have yet to meet in person. We’ve been involved in a couple of virtual events over the years and frequently connect on social media sites. Deb is another talented Michigan author who has a sharp wit and a wicked sense of humor. Let’s learn a bit more about her. Tell us about yourself and how you became an author. I love stories in any format. Stories pull me in until the real world around me fades away. Because I become so invested in the characters and story, my emotions are pulled into play as well. I began writing because I wanted make others feel the same way I did when reading a story – whether that is happy, sad, afraid, hopeful…you get the idea! I wrote my first suspense novel at 14 years old, but it wasn’t until I was in my mid-twenties that I revamped it and published it under the pseudonym D.A. Reed. What followed was a seven-book series (sorry, they are no longer in print!). Anyone who knows me well knows that I love action and suspense: explosions, a good fistfight, etc. I have researched ways to commit the perfect murder to such an extent I am probably on every law enforcement watchlist known to man, though they have not yet shown up at my door (knock on wood…). My first young adult novel came about because I was inspired by a teenager with a physical disability. I wanted to write something that would show her how special she is. The response I received from that novel showed me that I could help others with my writing – and I never looked back! I publish one YA realistic fiction novel a year (to date, seven are in print), and often publish a thriller each year as well, but YA is my priority. Do you ever imagine one of your novels being made into a movie or television series? The answer to this is a resounding yes! I believe my books in both genres would make fantastic films. Sadly, I have not yet been approached with a movie deal (insert heavy sigh). Any favorite actors you’d cast in the lead roles? Well, I have to say that Harrison Ford, Daniel Craig, and Ryan Reynolds are hands-down my favorite male actors and would be at the top of my list. Female actresses would be Jennifer Lawrence, Scarlett Johansson, and Sandra Bullock. As I write this, I am realizing these most of these actors are of an age that would make it difficult to cast them in any YA roles, which could pose a problem…and which is making me contemplate how old I am… What is your writing process? For instance, do you do an outline first? Do you write the chapters in sequence?My writing process involves getting up at 4:45 a.m., grabbing a cup of coffee, and then sitting down to write before everyone else in the house wakes up and chaos ensues. I tried writing an outline once…I stared at a wall for 2.5 hours without writing down one word and have never tried that again. I am a “pantser” through and through – meaning, I fly by the seat of my pants. The chapters are written in sequence because if I didn’t, I would get lost in my own manuscript and quite possibly never find my way out. Tell us a little bit about the characters in your latest book. My latest YA novel is titled Flameout. Chase Hanson has just graduated high school with his friends and has dreams of playing in the NFL – dreams that are no longer possible and have left him unsure of his future. Cora is literally the “girl next door,” and has been there for Chase through hard times. But she has her future planned out and doesn’t understand why Chase can’t seem to get his present or his future together. Chase’s best friend Ash is loyal to a fault. He’s also a playboy with his eye on the new girl who just moved into the neighborhood. Sloane, the aforementioned “new girl,” is fighting her own demons and doesn’t have the patience to be politically correct – she will say whatever is on her mind and doesn’t care if she offends you. Jeri is top-model gorgeous with a brain to match. Those who underestimate her often find themselves regretting it. Do the characters all come to you at the same time or do some of them come to you as you write? I usually have my characters planned out but—without fail—one tends to show up without any forewarning in each book. The most notable for me personally is Jaz from All the Things We Didn’t See. I was happily writing out the first chapter—with a definite idea of how it should unfold—when Jaz dropped in from out of nowhere and inserted herself (rather aggressively) into the story. Though I was a bit surprised to meet her (to say the least…), I have to say that Jaz is a driving force in making that story what it is. What is your latest book about? Flameout: Chase Hannon has everything he ever wanted: friends, a girlfriend, a college football scholarship, and a promising future in the NFL. All that changes when one crippling tackle threatens Chase’s football career forever. While Chase tries to come to grips with his new reality, uncertain goals, demanding jobs, new friends, and family secrets cause Chase to feel like his life is spinning wildly out of control. Friendship, love, and drugs collide in an epic standoff that forces Chase to make hard decisions – and that has devastating consequences. How about an excerpt? CHAPTER 1 It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But of course it was exactly like this. The rest of the year had sucked, might as well end it that way too. “Ugh, I just can’t even.” Cora cranked up the air in my truck, turning all the vents toward her as they blew at full blast. Never mind that I was just as hot as she was. “All those pictures are going to be gross.” I didn’t disagree, but there was no way I would ever tell my girlfriend that she looked less than stellar at the moment. I’d tried the whole honesty-is-the-best-policy tactic before. For the record, it’s not the best policy. And telling Cora that she resembled something limp and sweaty on one of the most important days of our lives would not be the wisest move. It was graduation day, and it was hot. Like, ninety degrees hot. The Madison High grads who chose not to wear anything but their skivvies under the thin robes laughed at the rest of us. The rest of us exuded stagnant misery. Running makeup, limp sweaty hair, and sweat stains under the arms of the blue robes were only half the problem. Due to an impending rainstorm—which had yet to appear—the ceremony was held in the unairconditioned gym. Ninety degrees, four hundred students, and over two thousand family and friends crammed into one gymnasium. After twenty minutes, the smell was enough to make you wish you were dead. Or buy stock in deodorant. Anything that didn’t involve enduring the stench of almost two thousand bodies packed together. And if I heard “It’s the first day of the rest of your lives” one more time, I wasn’t going to be responsible for my actions. Some of us didn’t want to be reminded that our lives stretched out before us in pointless, endless days. Some of us didn’t have dreams to reach for anymore. “Can you believe Ash flashed the entire school?” Cora rolled her eyes, but a smirk tilted the corners of her mouth. “Uh, yeah.” I grinned despite the heat and the persistent pain radiating up my left leg and into my hip. “Have you met Asher?” “Well, he could have at least gone to the tanner before showing off his private bathing suit parts. I mean, how blindingly white can skin be?” Cora shook out her hair, then combed the damp strands back with her fingers, trapping the blond strands with a hair tie. “I think Jeri was in on it—I caught her putting her sunglasses on when they called his name.” “Sunglasses would have been helpful,” I agreed, slowing down as I came up on a rusted-out car going five miles under the speed limit. Cora glanced at the car, then at me, but didn’t say a word. I could tell she wanted me to pass but wouldn’t push it. Which was good, since I wasn’t in the mood to go there. Not today. My hands tightened painfully on the wheel at the mere thought of moving into the opposite lane to go around the car. Nope. Not going there today. Cora had bent forward to rummage around in the bag at her feet, probably to hide her irritation. I couldn’t get too upset with her; less than a year ago I had been just like her, moving at full speed all the time. It was what drew us together sophomore year, that drive to seize life and wring out everything we could. We were fearless. Seeing that in Cora attracted me in a way I never felt with other girls, and I knew I wanted her. She fascinated me. Still did, but we weren’t on the same playing field anymore, and I kept wondering how that would play out when she disappeared to Dannon University in the fall. I tried not to think about it, but it wasn’t easy. Popping upright again, Cora held up a fifth of vodka, a grin stretching her full lips. “We’re meeting at the Pit, right? Tell me we’re still meeting at the Pit.” “We’re meeting at the Pit,” I confirmed, shooting her another grin. There was something about Cora tonight, an infectious energy that radiated off her, making her even hotter than normal—despite the sweat issue. “Good. I need to let loose for a while.” I laughed. “When do you not let loose, Cor?” My girlfriend shrugged, unrepentant, and grinned coyly. “I can’t think of a time…” she drawled, letting the words fade out. “Your house or mine?” I asked as I steered the truck into the entrance to our subdivision. “Yours. Definitely yours.” There was a bitterness tinging Cora’s words, and I wished I could make Mr. and Mrs. Marks understand what they were doing to their daughter. But I couldn’t even fix my own problems, much less solve anyone else’s. Still, I felt like I needed to do something to wipe away the frown now marring Cora’s face. “They’ll come around, you know. Your parents won’t let this ruin your relationship; they love you too much.” Cora’s lips twisted. “Want to tell them that? I think they missed the memo.” My jaw set. “I will. If it comes to that.” Silence fell inside the cab, the only sound the cold air rushing from the vents. The celebratory mood had vanished, and I knew I needed to get it back fast or Cora would fall down a rabbit hole of dejection. And that fifth of vodka wouldn’t last long. The tires of Journey—the name Cora had dubbed my truck when I first got it and that now wouldn’t shake loose—crunched over chalk my visiting cousins had left out in the driveway. I winced, knowing I’d hear about it when they noticed. Cora sighed. “Sorry to be a downer. I don’t want to think about that now, okay? I just want to have fun.” I reached over and squeezed her hand. “So let’s go have some fun. After, ah, we say hi to my family…” “We just saw them at graduation,” Cora laughed, already getting out of the truck. I followed suit, wincing a little as my leg hit the ground harder than I intended. Slamming the door harder than necessary as a way to relieve the frustration coursing through me, I forced my face into a neutral expression as I met Cora in front of the truck. “Yeah, well. You know my parents. They wanted to take us out to dinner and have a long, drawn-out celebration with the fam from out of town. It took some fast talking to get them to understand this was our night—and we wanted to hang out with friends after.” “How long are your grandparents and everyone in town?” I shrugged, holding the front door for Cora. “They’re leaving tomorrow, I think. We’re doing a big family breakfast and then they’re heading back to Utah.” Cora shook her head. “I still can’t believe they drove all the way to Michigan for your graduation.” It sounded rude, how she said it, but I knew Cora didn’t mean it that way. She was just jealous that my family cared enough to make the trek. Her own parents barely made it to the ceremony on time. I dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head as she passed me and stepped over the threshold of my house. She shot me a quick smile before she was swarmed by a horde of Hannons. My parents were the only Hannon family to have only two kids. Both grandparents on each side of the family came from big families and had five kids of their own. My aunts and uncles continued the tradition, my parents did not. The large family made reunions fun. And chaotic. And loud. And sometimes not so fun, depending on what current family drama was underway at the time. Thankfully, as graduation rolled around, there didn’t seem to be any crises on the horizon. Or everyone was hiding it really well. I didn’t care so long as I didn’t have to deal with it. “Chase!” The squealed chorus was followed by three small bodies as Molli, Brennan, and Avery launched themselves down the hall and at my legs. I didn’t have time to step out of the way or hold out my arms to slow their advance before the five-year-old triplets smashed into me. Cora’s hand flew out to support me as my body was slammed back into the—thankfully—closed front door. She missed. Pain sliced up my left leg and into my hip. I felt my face twist into a grimace I couldn’t mask even as I reveled in the feel of the three small bodies pressed in close, pinning me to the door. Then Brennan squeezed my bad leg with his thin arms and flashes of light bounced across my vision. “Kids. Get off Chase right now. Give him some space.” My vision cleared to see Aunt Monica rushing toward the foyer, her gaze seeking mine in apology. “I’m so sorry, Chase. They still—they don’t understand—" “It’s okay,” I said, even though it wasn’t. Even though my body was on fire with pain as Aunt Monica pulled the triplets off me and back into the living room. “Are you okay?” Cora whispered, her hand now finding my arm, her breath fanning across my face as she looked up at me with concern. I didn’t have time to answer before my mom came barreling into the foyer. “There you are.” Mom latched onto Cora, her usual attentiveness to every change in my face and body hindered by her excitement. Which was fine, considering I wasn’t in the mood to answer the standard Fifty Questions that followed every facial tic—whether it was related to my leg or not. “You have to see your cake, Cora.” Mom was already pulling my girlfriend away and in the direction of the kitchen. “My…cake?” Cora shot a confused look in my direction, but I was still trying not to collapse onto the floor. “We got you your own cake, sweetheart, of course we did! Come see it.” And they were gone, the confusion on Cora’s face morphing into excitement as Mom dragged her away. While I was glad Mom had gone all out for Cora—we all knew her parents wouldn’t have a cake or anything else special for their daughter—I had to fight off irritation at my girlfriend leaving me in the dust while I was still struggling to stay upright. “Chase, my man. Congratulations on the diploma.” A meaty hand clapped down on my shoulder, almost sending me to the ground. I smiled weakly at Uncle Gary, my dad’s youngest brother. He was the same height as my six-foot-two-inch frame but was twice my size in width. He worked in construction and, already built like a tank, was made even more solid by all the muscle built up by his job. “Thanks, Uncle Gary.” I tried not to sound as strained as I felt. “That girl of yours around here somewhere? Your Aunt Rachel has a gift for her.” “In the kitchen, I think,” I said as I shifted back to both feet, gritting my teeth with the effort. After all the months of physical therapy, you’d think my body wouldn’t hurt so badly, but no. Even better? The doc said the pain would never fully go away. “So what’s the plan now? Goin’ to college someplace?” The dreaded question. The one everyone asked while not stopping to think that maybe, just maybe, the person in question didn’t want to divulge their future plans—or lack of them—to the world. I shrugged noncommittally. “Not sure yet. Got some time left to figure it out.” Uncle Gary nodded, but I could tell he was trying not to look down at my leg. Like everyone else tried not to look at my leg. It must be draining, constantly ignoring the elephant in the room. In my case, shattered dreams to go along with my broken body. I knew it exhausted me. “Yes, well,” he cleared his throat. “No rush. You’re young yet, no need to hurry into the rest of your life.” I smiled thinly, hoping I didn’t look as annoyed as I felt. I couldn’t hurry anywhere, but I bit down hard on my tongue so I wouldn’t say it. “I should probably find Cora.” I tilted my head in the direction of the kitchen, hoping Uncle Gary would take the not-so-subtle hint. “Yeah, sure, sure. We’ll catch up later.” That meaty hand fell onto my shoulder again, a weight to match the one in my chest. I gave a short nod, though I had no intention of seeking my uncle out if it meant having a conversation about my future. I also tried to ignore the look of relief on Uncle Gary’s face at the out I’d given him. Was that what the rest of my life would be like? Everyone dancing around the elephant—or leg—in the room and looking relieved when I let them escape before things got too uncomfortable? That thought, like so many other things in my life, exhausted me just thinking about it. What’s the next project you’ll be working on? I am currently working on my first YA fantasy novel! The world-building required in fantasy has always intimidated me, but it is my teenage daughter’s favorite genre – and she finally convinced me to give it a try. I can honestly say that I am enjoying writing it. I am also thankful my daughter is full of ideas when I am thinking too realistically and not “fantastical” enough. She has been a big help whenever I get stumped and am not sure where to go next or how to get my characters out of a particular predicament! *Website: dareedauthor.com Music
David Bowie’s songs are often cycling through my collection of tunes on the streaming services. With a career that spanned more than fifty years, Bowie is considered one of the most influential musicians of the 20th Century. He sold more than 100 million albums worldwide, won 6 Grammy Awards and was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Here’s my top five favorites. Golden Years https://youtu.be/HRD0ghlFSgk?si=G7072iQbiNljLMiM Young Americans https://youtu.be/iO6OvHxD_m8?si=RweB0uxrvKpIf4vo The Jean Genie: https://youtu.be/kMYg_Ra4cr8?si=hZHgAgENUP9zf6hg Modern Love https://youtu.be/HivQqTtiHVw?si=KtGOOEgSjhB5xH-a Under Pressure (with Queen): https://youtu.be/HglA72ogPCE?si=QOyc_auzGrAzKo1K
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
New Release
Archives
September 2024
Categories
All
AudioRules of Desperation
Stealing Haven Why 319? The Wayward Path Devious Vanishing Act Your Turn To Die Chasing Favors Fleeing Beauty Mighty Books
Dear Writer Portage District Library Pages Promotions Summer 2020 Virtual Book Festival She Blurbs Podcast Instant Story Hour Podcast |