tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435195962876437732024-03-19T01:47:22.521-07:00Victoria Chatham - Author History, mystery and love. Links and leads to stories of romance and comments on a writer's life.Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.comBlogger106125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-11218491919434036102024-03-16T00:30:00.000-07:002024-03-16T00:30:00.242-07:00Before We Begin<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7CKxbXC-skFaX1c5td5PTK_6Vi4KeXnJIU7R11ql9vqxa_uczeGFA6GlLAdtk-nBKRCoaiez2uhoSSsYANLTGGpvlWdgbmBvX1Mk7gXmhxEC1GQkbtYzWBCvYNNKrUEYTXakW1Tth_FwFh4T4wc2gE6yF7dxuiVKgpWqv7HZ4sRtYZTYyw4pPIQs0CAc/s375/Round%20Robin%20logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="375" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7CKxbXC-skFaX1c5td5PTK_6Vi4KeXnJIU7R11ql9vqxa_uczeGFA6GlLAdtk-nBKRCoaiez2uhoSSsYANLTGGpvlWdgbmBvX1Mk7gXmhxEC1GQkbtYzWBCvYNNKrUEYTXakW1Tth_FwFh4T4wc2gE6yF7dxuiVKgpWqv7HZ4sRtYZTYyw4pPIQs0CAc/w200-h200/Round%20Robin%20logo.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">This month's blog topic is Research for Your Novel - Love it or hate it? How important is it for your writing?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Oh, where to begin? First, for me, I have to say it is supremely important. As a writer of historical romantic
fiction, I could not imagine having written any of my books without a great
deal of research. The fact that I have always been a reader helped enormously
when I needed to go down the rabbit hole of research.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I say rabbit hole because I’m easily sidetracked by weird and wonderful snippets of history—a subject I really did not like and, therefore, paid little attention to when I was at school. Dates and the succession of kings made no impression on me, but as an adult, I was drawn into historical fiction because of the characters that populated those stories and, subsequently, the details of the fabric of their lives.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">However, it wasn’t historical fiction that started me collecting odd facts about peoples' lives, but a contemporary Western romance. I
knew nothing of ranches and rodeos and thought the best way to find out was to
talk to people who did. Ranchers and working cowboys were brilliant—they somehow managed to keep straight faces while answering this city gal’s probably silly questions. I have written three contemporary Western romances now, and
each one needed someone’s input.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For <i>Loving That Cowboy</i>, I needed to know about
steer wrestling and conducted a telephone interview with a top Canadian performer. For <i>Legacy
of Love</i>, I pulled on conversations I’d had with stock contractor Harvey
Northcott, who just happened to have two Australian bull riders staying with
him for that year’s rodeo season. I knew nothing about grain bins, so after an online search, I contacted a company that made them. In <i>Loving Georgia Caldwell</i>, I needed to know about growing hay, and for this, my next-door neighbour, Don Hunt, was a valuable source. Sadly, Don is no longer with us, having recently passed after a long illness.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Research for my WWI novella, <i>Shell Shocked</i>,
took me to the Imperial War Museum in London, UK. I considered it a privilege to
read the actual, often poignant and moving, letters written by soldiers
from the trenches. Although some letters were heavily censored, the writer’s
thoughts, hopes, and fears were revealed in stark black handwriting. My Regency
research came with its own background as I grew up surrounded by the elegance
of Regency architecture in an area of Bristol, UK. More information was gleaned
from the novels of Georgette Heyer as regards fabrics and costumes, manners,
and what was expected from those gracing the upper echelons of society.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGZdEDcMY8bk6lC1g6EbKwqqXg7RizpqRdrNLyu3ghMlxZn7fzyB-7u2Ze_WywjB_bwMO4AcM3VJKTWrnpKOo5UDqGJGHLTtQsGHi3jmeaDtezp25IeqF-81AOpw5xkc4iQnwf6CVfvPBIcuqtsC5WkK9AwZigIPnFPjISq9n4A9HU2mLLr4RtAToShc/s250/Royal%20York%20Crescent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="188" data-original-width="250" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGZdEDcMY8bk6lC1g6EbKwqqXg7RizpqRdrNLyu3ghMlxZn7fzyB-7u2Ze_WywjB_bwMO4AcM3VJKTWrnpKOo5UDqGJGHLTtQsGHi3jmeaDtezp25IeqF-81AOpw5xkc4iQnwf6CVfvPBIcuqtsC5WkK9AwZigIPnFPjISq9n4A9HU2mLLr4RtAToShc/w200-h150/Royal%20York%20Crescent.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Royal York Crescent, Clifton</td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My daughter and I had a wonderful day at the Costume
Museum in Bath, including playing dress up. The costumes were handmade as
they would have been, from fabrics either the same or similar to those
available during the Regency. Even though my daughter is slim and trim, the
corsets were not big enough for her, which only emphasized how tiny women were
in that era. About the only thing we could both try on were the bonnets, which
we did.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">People truly are the greatest source of information, as
a website or book cannot speak to you in the same way. I wanted to know what living in pre-war Montreal was like, so I spent nearly a whole day with a lovely lady with whom I connected via a local seniors’ centre. She wasn’t sure how she
could help me, so I asked her to describe a typical day in the life of her and
her family. The images she depicted were vivid and fun, and I wrote notes like
crazy. A little of that interview crept into <i>Legacy of Love</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Of all the research I have done for my books, the most
surprising was on my doorstep. In <i>His Unexpected Muse, </i>Lord Peter Skeffington
is a closet writer of romance novels and is published by the Minerva Press. I needed
to know how writers of that era phrased their writing and what style, if any,
was common. When I started an online search, I discovered the University of Alberta’s library in Edmonton housed an extensive collection of Minerva Press books in their Bruce Peel Special Collections library. I contacted them and was invited
to view the collection. On arrival, there was a library cart with my name
displayed, already stocked with the books I had requested. That was so
special. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have made use of YouTube videos to learn how to sail
a schooner, set a broken leg, repair a torn rotator cuff, and cut cattle. I
spent hours in the archives of the Whyte Museum of the Canadian Rockies and the
public library in Banff when I was researching <i>Brides of Banff Springs.</i> I
returned home with fourteen books to read, having discovered that I could drop
them off at my local library when I was finished. An interesting side to this
is that I recently learnt that my accountant loves this book and has read it
several times. She also has a familial connection to one of the real-life
characters I refer to, Herb Paris, which makes it all the more real and special
to her.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Books on my shelves reflect my research, from <i>A
History of the Wife</i> to <i>The Age of Agony, Piracy, The Complete Servant</i>
and more, and I know I can get carried away with where research takes me. After a discussion </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px;">during a workshop years ago</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> on how much research is too much research, the presenter said, “Vicki, forget the research and write
the damn book.” Sage advice, but darn it, I need to know this stuff before I
start writing so that I can give my characters a bigger, broader stage on which
to play their parts.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You can join me in learning what my fellow Round Robin
bloggers have to say here:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Diane
Bator <a href="https://escapewithawriter.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">https://escapewithawriter.wordpress.com/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Anne
Stenhouse <a href="http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Dr.
Bob Rich <a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-398" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-398</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Connie
Vines <a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0563c1;">http://mizging.blogspot.com</span></a>/<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Helena
Fairfax <a href="http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Skye
Taylor <a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p><p>
</p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-68348703422994091722024-02-17T00:30:00.000-08:002024-02-17T00:30:00.138-08:00February's Round Robin Blog<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8niwb0RO9wI8lw0ep882wjvmD65gxVg-0E8m-eHHNcQ9feOy0MDkdTr6wXpWfDoe7P-wFlN4zMkFE4b7Bsprnh1trvoyBnnWczPsTI_yIPKJ2AmP_Ydq8Ic5cS7B9BLiMQGlAJEpDtErnAToiZa_-lu3TLEJ91xPocG_ae3PpulKrutyEQ0GexXYc2Gw/s192/Round%20Robin%20logo%202015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="191" data-original-width="192" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8niwb0RO9wI8lw0ep882wjvmD65gxVg-0E8m-eHHNcQ9feOy0MDkdTr6wXpWfDoe7P-wFlN4zMkFE4b7Bsprnh1trvoyBnnWczPsTI_yIPKJ2AmP_Ydq8Ic5cS7B9BLiMQGlAJEpDtErnAToiZa_-lu3TLEJ91xPocG_ae3PpulKrutyEQ0GexXYc2Gw/s1600/Round%20Robin%20logo%202015.jpg" width="192" /></a></div><br /> <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Feb 17</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Our
Round Robin topic this month is Goal, Motivation, and Conflict; it is the glue
that holds your story together and keeps your reader turning the page. It can
and should be applied to every central character in your story to create more
emotional impact while readers, knowingly or unknowingly, experience its
benefit. In a romance, if your reader reaches for the Kleenex, you’ve done your
job as a writer. Or, in a mystery, if a murderer is apprehended and brought to
justice, that reader may well feel a great sense of satisfaction or relief at
the conclusion.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">These
goals, motivations, and conflicts can be internal or external, but when GMC is
internal, it exposes the character’s emotional needs. Who wants what? Why do
they want it? What stops them from getting it? Digging deep into your character’s
psyche can build a compelling storyline because their goals, motivations, and
conflicts can often be linked to emotional wounds.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Say a
character has been unlucky in love. They might conclude they are just not lovable
and don’t deserve to be loved. Their emotional wound or need is to find love,
which becomes their goal. Their motivation might be to move beyond those
feelings of unworthiness, which can create conflict. How do they achieve the
very thing they want the most? What is standing in their way or preventing them
from reaching their goal? This block can also be their external conflict.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">What
if your character looking for love meets someone who continually puts them down
in a mean or sly way? How long before Character #1 realizes what Character #2
is up to? This realization can become a powerful external conflict as Character
#1 comes to terms with it. What if Character #1 decides they must escape
Character #2? What ugly confrontation could stem from it and add weight to your
story?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">There
are many ways to work with these aspects of writing a story. Some writers use
charts, and others write backstories. I don’t want to make writing a more
challenging exercise than it already is, so when I do my character profile, I make
bullet points and then enlarge them as I write because I am more of a pantser
than a plotter.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">I’m
always interested in how other authors deal with different aspects of the
writer’s craft, so now I’ll see what I can learn from the following:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;">Dr. Bob Rich </span><a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-37G" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-37G</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;">Anne
Stenhouse </span><a href="http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;">Connie Vines </span><a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0563c1; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://mizging.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">/</span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;">Helena
Fairfax </span><a href="http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Diane
Bator </span><a href="https://escapewithawriter.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;">https://escapewithawriter.wordpress.com/</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-ligatures: none;">Skye Taylor </span><a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="background: white; color: blue; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a><o:p></o:p></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-77240506042977446242024-02-15T15:23:00.000-08:002024-02-15T15:23:33.892-08:00My New Book<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjX2QwAqEzWuztP3U-NX8_ySY0lON5WelI0_t31FoOgnPeiZMzHPFdvonjpGKl0DthIsAwT2ADMtrec59SYXCjDIQSzGDTMwgzWG6XxGakK3VbWeNiKXXWi8JWUKuVALwLvUhMa028XOIzKE0kXE1H67AddnPbuS2HM-JQDafO46oCZrk3myLsozwvLo4U" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjX2QwAqEzWuztP3U-NX8_ySY0lON5WelI0_t31FoOgnPeiZMzHPFdvonjpGKl0DthIsAwT2ADMtrec59SYXCjDIQSzGDTMwgzWG6XxGakK3VbWeNiKXXWi8JWUKuVALwLvUhMa028XOIzKE0kXE1H67AddnPbuS2HM-JQDafO46oCZrk3myLsozwvLo4U" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://books2read.com/Loving-Georgia-Caldwell">AVAILABLE HERE</a><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Released on February 1st in e-book, also available in print.</p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Professional
football was Ty Harding’s life. Injury and age ended it. Now what? Returning to
the family ranch after two decades to decide his future, he finds it in crisis.
His mother needs help, and Ty’s ranching skills are rusty. His only recourse is
his high school sweetheart, who runs the adjoining property.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Georgia
Caldwell manages her thriving spread, competes in team cattle penning, and has
little room for anything more, especially an injured football hero.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Ty
is</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> captivated by the
strong woman Georgia has become. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Is her busy life the reason she keeps her
distance from him, or is it something else? </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Could whatever she is hiding keep them apart, or can Ty become
the man Georgia needs for them to rekindle what they once had?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-23364112414231533402024-01-20T00:30:00.000-08:002024-01-20T00:30:00.351-08:00Our First Round Robin of 2024<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNdRNv4bQTyGM5sPJRAneqq1birRZbn1sOCFCScr8ly4zHiMHFY4u2ojwApN6ej9RVDcxwRUuAxWxPMfIzQwOCQFlpIjXkZWIegU8XCrkM98OUZOdtmmuISvTqk1QhDer2d29r-CUUsMesPnONFxtDjCRgFmk19Us-q-hOtwjV-6et-_81LZKp6FR_ZNk/s375/Round%20Robin%20logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="375" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNdRNv4bQTyGM5sPJRAneqq1birRZbn1sOCFCScr8ly4zHiMHFY4u2ojwApN6ej9RVDcxwRUuAxWxPMfIzQwOCQFlpIjXkZWIegU8XCrkM98OUZOdtmmuISvTqk1QhDer2d29r-CUUsMesPnONFxtDjCRgFmk19Us-q-hOtwjV-6et-_81LZKp6FR_ZNk/s320/Round%20Robin%20logo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The idea for the first
Round Robin of 2024 caught me short-footed during a deep freeze. I am taking care of two houses while the owner is on vacation, and in the one where I live, the water froze, so my mind was not exactly on any writing project.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When asked to share
some ideas on giveaways as a marketing tool, my initial thought was that the
only giveaway I had ever initiated via Goodreads a long time ago wasn’t too
successful. However, with much patience and slightly improved temperatures, the
water and my thoughts began to flow.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I tend to write books
in series of three, as in The Berkeley Square Series, Books 1 – 3, and Those
Regency Belles, Books 1 - 3. The Buxton Chronicles come in one volume of three novellas,
and I have just completed Book 3 in my Western Collection of contemporary
Western romances. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Several years ago, I
ran a giveaway on my author’s FaceBook page, asking a question to which anyone
who had read Book 1 of The Berkeley Square Series would know the answer, and
offered Book 2 to the first reader to get it right. I had lots of likes for
that post, but no responses, correct or otherwise. At the time, I had already
moved on to writing Book 3 in that series, so I didn’t pursue that idea. It
might be time to try again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have never offered ‘swag’
at conferences and workshops as I have seen too many bookmarks and other advertising
materials unceremoniously dumped before the day or weekend was over. Yes, spending
money to make money is possible, but I don’t believe in throwing good money around.
Most authors have a budget for advertising, and I admit that mine is minimal
for various reasons.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Another idea I had was to invite my followers to name a character or become a character, bearing in mind the genre of the book. The winner of that particular venture appeared as the housekeeper in Those Regency Belles, Book 3. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px;">That was quite good fun, and I think I might try that again with my next book.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The most I spend on
advertising is for my business cards, which I leave wherever possible. I also
use them as bookmarks by punching a hole in one corner and attaching a beaded
ribbon or lengths of fancy string. Dollar and thrift stores are an excellent
resource for these types of materials. My other go-to is postcards. I can get
three books and their blurb on a postcard, and when I make up bundles, I will
place a postcard advertising The Berkeley Square Series with Those Regency
Belles, and vice versa.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I see the most positive
results when I give a book away. I usually make a note for myself of which book
I gave and when I gave it, and then when I get my sales report from my publisher,
I check to see what, if any, result came from it. It’s been noticeable that
after a book giveaway, I often notice an uptick in sales of my other books, so
that method seems to work best for me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Like many authors, I prefer
the writing process to the necessary one of self-promotion and advertising. My
virtual assistant monitors my FaceBook page and posts when sales are on various
platforms, or a new book is released. I’d struggle without her, so I appreciate
all she does for me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So now I will visit
these authors and see what tricks and tips they offer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Dr.
Bob Rich <a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-36L" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-36L</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Connie
Vines <a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0563c1;">http://mizging.blogspot.com</span></a>/<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Skye
Taylor <a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-12625833807300792012023-12-22T16:02:00.000-08:002023-12-22T16:02:24.668-08:00The Gift<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-fzhyI8Fu4k__bf-gSsowXlsxrKx-ZWCas7fA8SeAMERF_RW2tM7XyXszPNOV356XSuwyrJQ-w4UsL5W_fTaYELfzU6CpLN1PjiAdNV0ffsaxG80iGyvuv-6C2K2ipqyqmxXFsTfuPeKPu888fd3Is9qqJ58_LA3g96AroLGfXHvUQnXSg-hEaUzFBwc/s375/Round%20Robin%20logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="375" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-fzhyI8Fu4k__bf-gSsowXlsxrKx-ZWCas7fA8SeAMERF_RW2tM7XyXszPNOV356XSuwyrJQ-w4UsL5W_fTaYELfzU6CpLN1PjiAdNV0ffsaxG80iGyvuv-6C2K2ipqyqmxXFsTfuPeKPu888fd3Is9qqJ58_LA3g96AroLGfXHvUQnXSg-hEaUzFBwc/s320/Round%20Robin%20logo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I am so late with my Round Robin blog, the last one for 2023. I marked my calendar for December 15th. Plenty of time to write a short story ready for posting on December 16th, right? Not according to the bug that had me wake up with such a sore throat I couldn't speak and an ensuing head cold. Thankfully, it was nothing worse, and I can now speak and breathe again.<p></p><p>It may be behind, like the cow's tail, but here is my Christmas story for December 2023.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Calligraph421 BT;"><span style="font-size: 18px;"><b> </b></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">It might be Christmas,
but Suzie Castle felt no cheer or goodwill to all men. Losing her parents this
year within months of each other weighed heavily on her, as did having her art
class budget cut. She worried for her students, who had left before she did
today with cheery Christmas greetings and shouts of ‘see you next year’ as they
filed out of the classroom before her.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Cold from riding the
train and then taking a bus from the school where she taught to her home, her
feet wet from walking through slush and snow from the bus stop, she trudged up
the stairs of her three-storey apartment building, wondering why she’d insisted
on having a room with a view when an apartment on the main floor would have
been so much more convenient right now.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Stopping at her door,
Number 304, she set her grocery bag down and searched her purse for her keys. Why
hadn’t she thought to find them while sitting on the train or the bus? She
fitted the key in the lock, turned it and pushed her door open—then stopped.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Pale blue light flooded
her open-plan kitchen, dining, and living room.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Had she left a light on?
She didn’t think so. Besides, all her lights were practical, white LED bulbs. This
morning, she had switched them all off and opened the drapes before leaving for
her journey to the school. Now, not only was there light, but her drapes were
closed against the wintery night. She stepped inside, her jaw dropping as she
looked around.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The blue light came from
an acrylic Christmas tree on her coffee table. Who had put it there? And when
had all those cards been set up on her mantle shelf?</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Suzie toed off her wet
boots and wriggled her toes into her welcome mat as she unzipped her coat. Who
on earth had been in her apartment? She hung her coat in the hall closet. As
she approached her coffee table, she noticed several wrapped gifts on the floor
beneath it. Frowning, she picked one up and looked at the label.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><i style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Happy Christmas, Miss
Castle. See you next year. Best wishes, Jorge.</span></i></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">She picked up another.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><i style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Thank you for making the last
term so fun. Love, Beccy.</span></i></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Thinking of the bright,
difficult fifteen-year-old with whom she’d had more than one skirmish, tears
pricked Suzie’s eyes. She brushed them away and picked up another gift.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><i style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You helped me see things differently.
Thank you. Love, Donny.</span></i></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Donny. Suzie laid the
gift on the table. She’d crossed words with him, too.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Suzie ran her gaze along
the row of cards, stunned to see herself depicted on each one. She picked up
the biggest, showing her in her toque and muffler with a big smile. She ran her
finger over it and opened it.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><i style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Hope you like my drawing
of you. Happy Christmas. Peter.</span></i></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Peter. Her most talented
pupil.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">On another card, she was
pointing something out to a figure she was sure was little Mary Brown. Whose
easel had been behind Mary’s? Suzie couldn’t remember but thought it might have
been Devon Jackson. She turned the card over. Sure enough, there were his
initials and the date.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Suzie swallowed the lump
in her throat as she remembered some of the casual, throw-away questions and
comments from the last few weeks in the run-up to Christmas.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><i style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What do you do at
Christmas, Miss Castle?</span></i></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Snuggle up in a big
blanket with a book and drink hot chocolate.”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><i style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Do you have turkey and
all the trimmings?</span></i></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Good gracious, no. It’s
just like another day for me, although I sometimes buy myself a box of
chocolates.”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><i style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Have you ever locked
yourself out of your apartment?</span></i></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Only once, and then I
left a spare key with my neighbour.”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Why did that question and
her response suddenly spring into her mind?</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Who had asked it? Suzie’s
brow wrinkled as she thought back. It was Beccy. She was sure of it. At the
time, she’d been busy suggesting a correction to the shading in Beccy’s drawing
and not thought anything of it. Now, she saw clearly how her students had been cleverly
gathering information all this time.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">A knock at her door startled
her, but she went to open it, only to find her elderly next-door neighbour,
Mrs. Delaney from Number 306, outside.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Mrs. Delaney,” Suzie
said, welcoming her with a smile. “Please come in.”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">There was an answering
twinkle in Mrs. Delaney’s kind, blue eyes. “Don’t mind if I do, but I won’t keep
you a moment. I only wanted to make sure you weren’t cross that I’d used your
spare key to let the young ones into your apartment, and of course, I stayed
with them while they decorated. They were such polite young people and wanted
to do something nice for you so you wouldn’t feel lonely at Christmas.”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“How could I be cross
about that sentiment, Mrs. Delaney?” Suzie motioned her to sit down. “This is
the nicest thing that has happened to me in a long while. Would you like a cup
of tea?”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“If you’re sure it’s no
trouble, dear.”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Suzie went into the
kitchen to fill the kettle and switch it on, but right beside it, a mug with two
single sachets of gourmet hot chocolate sat on top of a box of chocolates.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Mrs. Delaney,” Suzie
called. “Would you like a mug of hot chocolate instead? Irish cream or salted
caramel?”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Irish cream would be
lovely,” Mrs. Delaney said, and Suzie unhooked another mug from her mug tree.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">When she had made the
drinks and carried them into the living room, Suzie sat opposite her neighbour
and smiled.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Thank you for helping my
students set this up,” she said. “This is the best gift anyone could have given
me.” She raised her mug in a salute to Mrs. Delaney and each one of her
students. “Happy Christmas!”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">THE END</span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-20453294655624948272023-11-20T14:55:00.000-08:002023-11-20T14:55:45.140-08:00A Cowboy This Christmas Anthology<p> It is hard to believe we are already more than halfway through November! In my part of Canada, we have had a wonderful and relatively snow-free fall, but Christmas is just around the corner and who knows what that will bring. </p><p>As always, writing has taken a lot of my time, and this year I was part of a short story project. It was fun to return to the short story format, which is where I started my writing. Together with eight other Alberta authors, we came up with A Cowboy This Christmas. Each story is infused with holiday magic and is likely to steal your heart. You can find it at:</p><p>https://www.amazon.com/Cowboy-This-Christmas-Romance-Anthology/dp/1777755522</p><p>OR</p><p>https://www.amazon.ca/Cowboy-This-Christmas-Romance-Anthology/dp/1777755522</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKzqJIZvxh_shjOMaJFxGUn0Z3sC7PGghGwx4nce138ouh9KcFhz7D67mAUp-rQczeFu0DgohQ3WiHWAr83eStP4JmoX_wUghrxLq7T9vR2E-7BFsazsrASzPegI4n15hHamfPGyq7b57WC_Ca1GN616u4MS7iRJVlOIkWKGEc8E-77kVIlXOqJ_hz7lg/s500/A%20Cowboy%20This%20Christmas%20image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="261" data-original-width="500" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKzqJIZvxh_shjOMaJFxGUn0Z3sC7PGghGwx4nce138ouh9KcFhz7D67mAUp-rQczeFu0DgohQ3WiHWAr83eStP4JmoX_wUghrxLq7T9vR2E-7BFsazsrASzPegI4n15hHamfPGyq7b57WC_Ca1GN616u4MS7iRJVlOIkWKGEc8E-77kVIlXOqJ_hz7lg/s320/A%20Cowboy%20This%20Christmas%20image.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-6092565938906371632023-07-22T10:44:00.000-07:002023-07-22T10:44:23.083-07:00Round Robin Blog July<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihXUhYD0bkGEDB6K4qsigvrMr4WY4vd3FjMXP-8dxa_DcAmJ4Qe83Qjs7NHg09O_OuafNPvmmWjlcF4MhxJcKXjvyEMXYsDE2hsFIf9mWi7Njw5-zO4FMnJpR_xSYDVSSfprtq6GuOWCFj4fZohun6PYu8SatkqqRNCV4RJrRW51m5c0eWSysw9vz-n1I/s375/Round%20Robin%20logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="375" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihXUhYD0bkGEDB6K4qsigvrMr4WY4vd3FjMXP-8dxa_DcAmJ4Qe83Qjs7NHg09O_OuafNPvmmWjlcF4MhxJcKXjvyEMXYsDE2hsFIf9mWi7Njw5-zO4FMnJpR_xSYDVSSfprtq6GuOWCFj4fZohun6PYu8SatkqqRNCV4RJrRW51m5c0eWSysw9vz-n1I/s320/Round%20Robin%20logo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This month we are looking at how important Character Arc is to our stories and how it ties into the plot or story arc, and do you usually give some time and story to character arcs for secondary
characters?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A story without a good
character or story arc is like a straight piece of string. Boring.
Uninteresting. Then tie a few knots in it here and there, and it becomes a
different beast. Why is the knot in <i>that</i> place rather than in <i>this</i>
place? Why is that knot bigger than the others? Does its size mean something
important in the plot or an ‘aha’ moment for the character? And what does that
squiggly little knot between two bigger ones indicate? Could it be a red
herring slipped in there to catch the unwary?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The plot arc is the story’s
shape, while characters have internal and external arcs that can create
conflict. At the beginning of the narrative, Character A may be lacking in
confidence. He or she thinks they are useless, unlovable, and ordinary. Then
events test them as the story progresses, and we see that character overcome
their ‘negative press,’ the false image they have of themselves, and by the end,
they see they are useful, lovable, and extraordinary. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Secondary characters in
a story are there to bring out the best in or give support to Character A, which
doesn’t mean that they are less critical. They still need a good backstory, and
the author needs to make them as well-rounded as Character A and not a
caricature. They need names, strengths, and weaknesses, the same as Character A.
While we might lay out every aspect and nuance of Character A for our reader to
get to know and understand him or her, we don’t need to see that for the
secondary character, even though the author will know it. Secondary characters
are great for discovering facts, as Lord Clifton instructs his secretary Edward
Pargetter in my book <i>His Dark Enchantress.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Lucius tapped his forefinger against his
lips, his eyes narrowing as a scheme began to form in his mind.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“That could be most fortuitous, as long as
the under-secretary is not one James Horace.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“If you wish, I could make enquiries as to
whom exactly my cousin is attached.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I do wish, Edward, and it must be done as
discreetly as possible. I also wish you to discover who else Lady Darnley has
invited to dinner. Now, will I be signing my life away if I do not read these
damnable letters?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You’ll never be sure, Sir.” Edward handed
him a freshly trimmed pen.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Because Edward has been employed by his lordship for
some time, they have developed respect and liking for each other, as indicated
by Edward’s quip. In the same book, Lord Clifton relies on his head groom, Mr.
Noble, and coachman, Mr. Tockington.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“We’ll do the same as in Folkestone.” Determination
made his voice grim. “Noble, I want you and Tocky to make enquiries at the Full
Moon and the Flood Tide. Edward, find the White Horse and hire a horse for me
and a carriage for you three and our equipment. I’ll ask the landlord here for
the quickest route to Lille.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Edward was the first to return and he and
Lucius waited impatiently for Noble and Tocky.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Perhaps they are unable to make
themselves understood,” suggested Edward.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Lucius shook his head. “I doubt it. Noble
speaks passable French and Tocky appears to be able to make himself understood
anywhere. Plus, with coin available to pay for a round or two of drinks, they
may be gleaning more information than we expect.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Secondary characters will have a different perspective
on Character A, understand and maybe appreciate their likes and dislikes. They
can help the reader build up their image of the main protagonist, like peeling
an onion in reverse. They might be more like the person on the street, someone the
reader can easily relate to, rather than a lord of the realm, hot-shot sports
hero, billionaire, or whoever your Character A might be.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Now, visit my fellow bloggers and see what they say on
the subject.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Anne
Stenhouse </span><a href="http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Connie
Vines </span><a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0563c1; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://mizging.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">/<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Diane
Bator </span><a href="http://dbator.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://dbator.blogspot.ca/</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Helena
Fairfax </span><a href="http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Marci
Baun </span><a href="http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">A.J.
Maguire </span><a href="http://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Skye
Taylor </span><a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-54559275054967721152023-05-20T07:21:00.002-07:002023-05-20T07:21:43.778-07:00Round Robin Blog - Emotional Wounds<p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghm6BWnfDJ7BZPwoKHT64__kNkNXo7_wCHK632rdWMJySuFXVm2pZvWc4NMDA8v7gEoPJhRDEIw3aZNdeuw3Qig7_i5jTxI10sO0b8H_iIFbit2vhptjEVvIjgQVEl_qwzC93spFv7DqRTYirCGAP8h676K9B9okwXYN2uRe2HQs3f1Rm_OVl1hkr4/s375/Round%20Robin%20logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="375" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghm6BWnfDJ7BZPwoKHT64__kNkNXo7_wCHK632rdWMJySuFXVm2pZvWc4NMDA8v7gEoPJhRDEIw3aZNdeuw3Qig7_i5jTxI10sO0b8H_iIFbit2vhptjEVvIjgQVEl_qwzC93spFv7DqRTYirCGAP8h676K9B9okwXYN2uRe2HQs3f1Rm_OVl1hkr4/s320/Round%20Robin%20logo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">This month our topic is emotional wounds for our
protagonists – and how to help them learn to cope with and accept those wounds.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">First, what is an emotional wound? We likely all have one or more, to some extent, and it is the same for the characters we create.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Wounds can be caused by an event or series of events, by a person, particularly someone close, be it a friend or family member,
from either a parent or parents, or a (usually older) sibling. It might be
caused by a careless comment heard in passing, one that our character hears at
a vulnerable point in their life. Rather than let it go, our character hangs on
to it until it becomes ingrained in them, colouring their thoughts and feelings
in a negative way.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">However, much like an alcoholic who cannot recover until he
or she recognizes their condition and makes the personal choice to overcome it,
our characters are unlikely to recover from an emotional wound unless they look
into themselves and choose to make changes. As their creators, we authors can
start by building a believable backstory for the characters. The deeper the wound,
the more complex the character, which can then lead to creating a strong
character arc. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">What is your character’s greatest fear, and why? Answering
the why can be the path to overcoming the fear. Perhaps your character was
bullied as a child. Not having the physical or mental strength to overcome it
at the time the event(s) occurred might mean your character has difficulty standing up
for himself or herself. A weak person making a bold decision can be the start of a change in that character.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">One of my characters was overshadowed and controlled by her
mother – until the mother was out of the picture. My character’s first step on
her path to healing and growth was stepping alone outside her front door. Mother/daughter or father/son wounds are often the strongest, deepest wounds to heal.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Perhaps your character has a physical flaw which they have
been teased about or otherwise made aware of. This might make them not value
their self, to make them think they have less to offer than the next person. It
might make them unlovable when what they want most in life is to love and be
loved.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Another of my characters dealt with her father’s murder by
tracking down the murderer. The villain in one of my short stories suffered
abuse as a child, which led to him being an abuser and ultimately committing
murder.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">This is an extensive and complex subject, and I have given
only brief examples of ways in which characters can be wounded. Because I write
historical and contemporary romance, my characters' wounds are usually resolved
through love. Idealistic, maybe, but the genre known for its happy-ever-after endings still leads the market.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Now to visit my fellow bloggers to see what they have to
say on the subject.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Connie
Vines <a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0563c1;">http://mizging.blogspot.com</span></a>/<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Dr.
Bob Rich <a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2W9" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc;">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2W9</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Fiona
McGier <a href="http://www.fionamcgier.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.fionamcgier.com/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Marci
Baun <a href="http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 11.55pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Skye
Taylor <a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-52823533230107889002023-04-22T00:30:00.001-07:002023-04-22T00:30:00.159-07:00<p> For our April topic, we are discussing how authors breathe life into their characters. Every author has their own methods. What works for one doesn't or won't work for another. This is my take.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAyFCiQGxtwmAwESWTnnbxGyPt0KmVxB_WkJ3fFr1t0xd2mtTDfuWiWxuvyPb0ALV8U3VAMqzjbMePuK2cJSlLtATLlCVD9I1AE8zVlgrJ68AjQ-IzSCnnRtH6XCxipdHXKVVw78swiMocefPruLrCSi9OE6aAH2mtQCmksz70fwK6sh5otWO_V0DE/s400/roundrobin-new2023.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAyFCiQGxtwmAwESWTnnbxGyPt0KmVxB_WkJ3fFr1t0xd2mtTDfuWiWxuvyPb0ALV8U3VAMqzjbMePuK2cJSlLtATLlCVD9I1AE8zVlgrJ68AjQ-IzSCnnRtH6XCxipdHXKVVw78swiMocefPruLrCSi9OE6aAH2mtQCmksz70fwK6sh5otWO_V0DE/s320/roundrobin-new2023.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />Love ‘em or hate ‘em, a
writer’s characters can make or break a story. An author may base them on
someone or several someone’s they know, or they may be complete figments of
that author’s imagination.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Whichever way an author
approaches character building, there are some tried and true methods. I’ve been
fortunate that most of my characters have come to me almost fully formed. I can
see them. I know their names, but I must get to know them after that.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have always been methodical,
and the method that works for me is the character-building questionnaire. Some
may call it a developmental worksheet or character arc plan. Beyond hair and
eye colour, what is the character's physical type? You may have a tall male character,
but how is he tall? Is he proportionate, or does he have a short torso and long
legs? The same applies to a female character. Do they find their height awkward
and stoop or otherwise try to disguise it, or are they proud of it and stand
with shoulders back and head held high?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One of the most
delightful heroines I ever came across was Winnifred Gardner in LaVyrle
Spencer’s <i>Spring Fancy</i>. Win blinks with one eye. Not winks, but blinks.
How can a reader not be intrigued by that distinction? Or how about Catherine
Cookson’s ‘Mallen streak,’ that section of white or grey hair in an otherwise
dark head that marks the Mallen men? Then there’s Rex Stout’s PI, Nero Wolfe,
who rarely leaves his home and has his sidekick Archie do the legwork for him. Many
of Georgette Heyer’s aristocratic heroes are proud, cold, and bored men whom
Society believes the worst.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What causes Win to
blink with one eye, or why does Nero Wolfe not like leaving his home? The Mallen
streak is a condition where the hair follicles are devoid of pigment, a harmless but
distinctive condition. And what does hide behind the proud, cold, and bored
facades of those Regency rogues and rakes?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Knowing everything I
can about my characters, and maybe finding out even more as I write them into
life, helps build a better character and story. None of the characteristics are
presented as a laundry list. More dropped into the narrative through dialogue
or introspection. Is a character’s hair colour more important than the fact
that she’s particular about the shape of her fingernails? That would depend on the
story’s genre and what part either feature might have to play as a clue or red
herring.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I will conduct a
character interview if I get stuck at any time. I have lists of questions and
pick six or seven. Sometimes the answers come quickly. Other times they take a
long time to surface. Those questions the character does not want to answer tend
to dig the deepest, but when the answers come, they can be an ‘aha’ moment and
make the person on paper burst into life. All these facts, the weighing up of
strengths and weaknesses, likes and dislikes, hopes and fears, may not appear
on the page. However, they have helped me, the author, get to know my characters
better and in doing that, presenting a more realistic cast in my books.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And for more ways to
breathe life into characters, check out what my fellow bloggers have to say.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Anne
Stenhouse </span><a href="http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com</span></a><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Connie
Vines </span><a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0563c1; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">http://mizging.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">/<span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Diane
Bator </span><a href="https://dbator.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">https://dbator.blogspot.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Dr.
Bob Rich </span><a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2TY" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2TY</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Fiona
McGier </span><a href="http://www.fionamcgier.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://www.fionamcgier.com/</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Marci
Baun </span><a href="http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">A.J.
Maguire </span><a href="http://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Helena Fairfax </span><a href="http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog" target="_blank"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Judith Copek </span><a href="http://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">http://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Skye
Taylor </span><a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="background: white; color: #1e1915; font-family: Montserrat;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-19295888317125392052023-03-29T13:15:00.001-07:002023-03-29T13:16:46.583-07:00The Viscount and the Orphan<p> </p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhVTL76bSFM_RvsHkiSGZRLUxyrF0eJCpgh4gotKLNYPLNAnNp0GKQW04wM3d3izw5KN7aVXx_SmdIdfa6uWo-ETjdvRA4mUvgokdZbia_StuZDlFXqFRIVbNMTlgK84ZG1ogQClmcGggAyY5Gi4DyJOlHt-7DIzvhChrbM2C8WYrLSSSpcjzfs3L5S" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="230" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhVTL76bSFM_RvsHkiSGZRLUxyrF0eJCpgh4gotKLNYPLNAnNp0GKQW04wM3d3izw5KN7aVXx_SmdIdfa6uWo-ETjdvRA4mUvgokdZbia_StuZDlFXqFRIVbNMTlgK84ZG1ogQClmcGggAyY5Gi4DyJOlHt-7DIzvhChrbM2C8WYrLSSSpcjzfs3L5S=w267-h400" width="267" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://books2read.com/The-Viscount-and-the-Orphan">AVAILABLE HERE</a></p><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">THE VISCOUNT AND THE ORPHAN by Rosemary
Morris<o:p></o:p></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Gabriel, Viscount Cavanagh, is a gambler, womanizer,
and bankrupt. His grandfather, merchant Adam Maynard, will absolve him of his debts if Gabriel agrees to marry Adam's wealthy orphaned ward, Dorinda Davenport.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sixteen-year-old plain, plump Dorinda, fueled by
romantic notions from the novels she reads, considers Gabriel a knight in
shining armour who will whisk her away from the orphanage to a life of love and
luxury.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Nothing could be further than the truth, and this
story’s eventual truth has a stunning twist. Along the way, Gabriel and Dorinda
grow as characters. Gabriel's friend Avery is an engaging foil and the 18<sup>th</sup> Century historical detail, as
always with Ms. Morris’s books, is on point. You will surely enjoy this tale if
you like historical romance, or romance in general.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-73891201467292627532023-02-25T00:30:00.001-08:002023-02-25T00:30:00.168-08:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3gwDgS1u8ZMxo7TIOsdGIgNsaRp0a7bXUXY3V2f7u6tXnbombk_-sAmQ74hfIxkRdEf6JSts3GOHlAQDj6AcxOQC7qhUBKgr5_ewFLzE8-1j49yBJOCS3-_d2nY2Uo-Cj_DK7hP_1kvXuRgAQn5iLnOgWAwfryqBdF5ovW9_9_Ot22TVCyYmsCJ-/s400/roundrobin-new2023.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3gwDgS1u8ZMxo7TIOsdGIgNsaRp0a7bXUXY3V2f7u6tXnbombk_-sAmQ74hfIxkRdEf6JSts3GOHlAQDj6AcxOQC7qhUBKgr5_ewFLzE8-1j49yBJOCS3-_d2nY2Uo-Cj_DK7hP_1kvXuRgAQn5iLnOgWAwfryqBdF5ovW9_9_Ot22TVCyYmsCJ-/s320/roundrobin-new2023.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">This month’s Round Robin topic asks how can
contemporary fiction keep up with our swiftly changing world, politically,
socially, or technically. Or how do you keep your stories located in time?</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It is a good question, but one that does not
affect my writing. My genre is historical romance, so while I delve into the 19<sup>th</sup> century, I don’t worry so much
about any of those topics. Politics a little, the social world a lot, and technicalities hardly at all. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The technicalities of the time were about the
craft involved in producing furniture, of making the best clocks and carriages.
There were theories on how to breed the best carriage horses or hunters. As
Juliana Clifton discovers in <i>His Ocean Vixen</i>, weapons vary in weight and use
depending on whether it is a rapier or cutlass. Beyond maybe creating an image
of what a pair of Manton’s duelling pistols looked like, describing Captain Morris’s
pistol crutches in <i>Hester Dymock</i>, or mapmakers’ instruments in <i>Charlotte
Gray</i>, technicalities are not at the top of my list.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The social scene makes much more impact on my
novels. The Regency era was well known for its strictures. From the correct
time of day to visit friends and acquaintances and the length of the visit to
the rules and regulations for riding and driving in Hyde Park, Society was
rigid. Confusingly, morning calls were made between one and four o’clock in the
afternoon. This was because the whole period before dinner was referred to as
morning.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">A visitor would send in a calling card via a
footman. The caller would be invited to join her if the lady of the house was
receiving visitors. Visits were usually no longer than thirty minutes, less if
other visitors arrived and the first visitor would then leave. Each visit was
long enough to be polite, and short enough not to outstay one’s welcome.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A lady could only venture out alone in a
closed carriage. Other than that, she would travel in the company of a
gentleman or chaperone. If a single lady happened to be found in the company of
a single gentleman by chance, the most likely outcome would be a proposal of
marriage to save the lady’s virtue and satisfy her parents.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Other than referring to battles and incidents during
the Peninsular Wars, politics rarely rears its ugly head in my books. Politics
has no place even in the two contemporary western romances I have written, nor
will it in my current work in progress which is another contemporary romance. I
will leave that to more skilled authors than myself. I am looking forward to
reading what my fellow bloggers have to say. Find them here:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Connie Vines </span><u><span style="color: #0563c1; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/">http://mizging.blogspot.com</a></span></u><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">/<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dr. Bob Rich </span><u><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2QS">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2QS</a></span></u><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anne Stenhouse </span><u><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://wp.me/31Isq">http://wp.me/31Isq</a></span></u><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Helena Fairfax </span><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog">http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog</a></span></u><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Skye Taylor </span><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</a></span></u><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-50461554459284651012023-02-24T15:57:00.001-08:002023-02-24T15:57:27.621-08:00<p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thanks to shepherd.com for promoting my book His Unexpected Muse, Book 3 in my Berkeley Square series. You can find it here https://shepherd.com/best-books/that-end-with-happy-everafters-for-any-era.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS3z9o3dGml98xOJQoXfStzB2HkS22qHnlMlpB4PCuDF1o6inggElDnlvkXymwhGiZSRWbdOCWlG2-S3yinXrQ2DQB6oCx5Ak4UuUTt5T2MnJVuzg4gw4cAn5rzU0IluKbYJrF3vTD0r6ie1qimI3AhMjPnuygya4hb7omgXDPTtiw-Bo2KflSQdIS/s1200/shepherd%20for%20blog.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="608" data-original-width="1200" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS3z9o3dGml98xOJQoXfStzB2HkS22qHnlMlpB4PCuDF1o6inggElDnlvkXymwhGiZSRWbdOCWlG2-S3yinXrQ2DQB6oCx5Ak4UuUTt5T2MnJVuzg4gw4cAn5rzU0IluKbYJrF3vTD0r6ie1qimI3AhMjPnuygya4hb7omgXDPTtiw-Bo2KflSQdIS/w582-h311/shepherd%20for%20blog.jpg" width="582" /></a></div><br />The above are the books I selected for my book list that accompanied the promo. It is free for authors and worth taking a look at. You might like to check one of their new features at https://shepherd.com/bookshelf/storytelling.Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-20551841727936094182023-01-21T00:30:00.001-08:002023-01-21T00:30:00.197-08:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB4Eadz18JderunLl0FaXz_Zh8BB5GqR8CqJ5CHi736rpXK-SUkiJjXH6ozAYBhNyVr6lhAx8TyiRJYhBy_eY44XhZL9UFJ2vnxOi6ncEt-wGxdtzHZxqg2HyVRyY9sQ_XF4dggHEX747id5iqFfqM3nrCrmDAUY6RRmB37vi1oA3tB-PkOdAVCdhC/s400/roundrobin-new2023.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB4Eadz18JderunLl0FaXz_Zh8BB5GqR8CqJ5CHi736rpXK-SUkiJjXH6ozAYBhNyVr6lhAx8TyiRJYhBy_eY44XhZL9UFJ2vnxOi6ncEt-wGxdtzHZxqg2HyVRyY9sQ_XF4dggHEX747id5iqFfqM3nrCrmDAUY6RRmB37vi1oA3tB-PkOdAVCdhC/s320/roundrobin-new2023.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Look at us! A new logo and a great blog topic to start the New Year: New
Beginnings. How do you motivate yourself to get back to writing when life has
interrupted your flow and/or how do you begin a new writing challenge? A new
genre? A new series? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Life interrupted my flow last year. I had a book to finish, books to
edit, blogs to write, and no inclination to write another word when that was
all done.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I went to the UK for April and most of May, visiting my three children
before flying to Glasgow to meet up with a friend who was born there. She was
happy to show me her Scotland, and after not enough time in Glasgow, we travelled
to the island of Arran, off Scotland’s west coast. Arran is Scotland in miniature,
with the scenery in the north of the island like the highlands and the south
the lowlands. Some of it was rugged and regal, threatening at times when the
weather changed, the clouds rolling in from the Atlantic and soaking us with
cold, heavy rain. Lots of atmosphere here prompted me to scribble notes in the pad I
always have in my purse.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Scotch is my tipple of choice, so going to a distillery for a tasting was
a must. We first visited the Lochranza distillery in the north of Arran and
then Lagg in the south. I learnt so much, not just about the distilling process
but the smuggling that went on too. Hmm. Smuggling. There’s a trope here. We visited
the heritage museum and listened to one of the volunteers talking about the
clearances, a dark time when entire communities moved out of their homes and
off their land. The stories we heard sparked my imagination. What would it be
like to live off seaweed, fish, and little else? Lady – what shall I call her?
- was furious with her father when he claimed the crofters' land. Now, where did
that thought come from?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After a week on Arran, we set off again, this time to Edinburgh. Whereas
Glasgow is primarily a Victorian city, parts of Edinburgh are Georgian,
especially the lovely Charlotte Square. I could see any of these houses as the
home of my character Lady – oh, hang on a minute. Scratch that. I’m off
writing. My Scottish experience was over too soon, but before we parted company,
my friend challenged me to write a Regency romance with a Scottish setting.
Hmm. Possibly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I returned to my family for a few days and then drove down to St. Ives
in Cornwall. I had forgotten the steep hill down into the town and how narrow
the streets were. After checking into the hotel, I walked to the beach and,
darn it, another idea struck me. Out of nowhere, I had the premise for a women’s
fiction novel. So much for not writing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In quiet moments I jotted ideas for a Scottish Regency and a
contemporary women’s fiction. I had settings, characters, and a few lines of
dialogue all worked out over a solitary lunch of blackened, locally sourced sea
bass. Before I knew it, I had a whole new writing plan, which made me conclude
that once a writer, always a writer.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Just because we are not sitting in front of a computer, or however any
writer chooses to work, does not mean we are not writing. The ideas spring from
anywhere at any time. We may not act on them immediately, but they are there,
ready to be worked into something solid at some point. Taking a break from
writing, as I found, stirred up the creative juices. I have a contemporary
western romance in progress, so I will be kept busy between these three ideas
for a while. That spring break gave me the quiet time I must have needed. Now
for the hard part, actually knuckling down and writing them. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m looking forward to reading how my blog compatriots fare with their
new beginnings. If I’ve missed anyone, I apologize in advance.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dr. Bob Rich </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2OQ" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2OQ</span></a></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anne
Graham </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="https://emea01.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2Fh4DtKv&data=04%7C01%7C%7C3810702ebaa84e45fa3008d93fc485b9%7C84df9e7fe9f640afb435aaaaaaaaaaaa%7C1%7C0%7C637610935555787876%7CUnknown%7CTWFpbGZsb3d8eyJWIjoiMC4wLjAwMDAiLCJQIjoiV2luMzIiLCJBTiI6Ik1haWwiLCJXVCI6Mn0%3D%7C1000&sdata=4dsLu27tLZtAeCOgYJcFRcZS8zvI%2BGlLm5%2FeqK7l%2B48%3D&reserved=0" target="_blank" title="Protected by Outlook: https://goo.gl/h4DtKv. Click or tap to follow the link."><span style="color: #1155cc; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">https://goo.gl/h4DtKv</span></a></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Connie Vines
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/">http://mizging.blogspot.com</a></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">/<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Diane
Bator </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="https://dbator.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">https://dbator.blogspot.com/</span></a></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A.J. McGuire
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="http://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/">http://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/</a></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Fiona
McGier </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="http://www.fionamcgier.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0070c0; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">http://www.fionamcgier.com/</span></a></span><u><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></u></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marci Baun </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="https://www.marcibaun.com/blog">https://www.marcibaun.com/blog</a><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Skye Taylor </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-37758399956166051682022-12-23T00:30:00.001-08:002022-12-23T00:30:00.196-08:00<p> I have been sadly missing in action for a while now. Good intentions apart, I have been writing on various projects but here is my Christmas story for this year. I hope you enjoy it.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTnfhwXD_gfiozfdZ2yZX9G1hg16oclc_7rt_-N71Flaxypm4R1JLzZYF30-AXyD1gu4RmIXWyAGIqu6itybWmH60wZSZNToLdR8N72CSBt5TG07BDrjlHtdk54LwqXPXlMbWiLxFeEt8cQ6SgV03sggcDbaceW_xo3H1BOO7sA_K6JDaS608BzHb/s2048/2014-09-13%2004.59.41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTnfhwXD_gfiozfdZ2yZX9G1hg16oclc_7rt_-N71Flaxypm4R1JLzZYF30-AXyD1gu4RmIXWyAGIqu6itybWmH60wZSZNToLdR8N72CSBt5TG07BDrjlHtdk54LwqXPXlMbWiLxFeEt8cQ6SgV03sggcDbaceW_xo3H1BOO7sA_K6JDaS608BzHb/s320/2014-09-13%2004.59.41.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">HOME FOR CHRISTMAS<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Your sister’s
coming home then.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg Nicholls
stood, dripping, in the doorway of Hetty Pimm’s shop. Marg had lived in Lower
Vale all her life, but the speed news travelled around the community irritated
her. She considered it must be the postman who regularly delivered more than
the mail to anyone willing to listen. The local grapevine would have expanded
from there. Who needed a cell phone when they had a Barry Jones?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, shut the
door,” Hetty commanded, rubbing her arms against the wind gusting forcefully
into the little shop. “You can use that mop and bucket to clean up your puddle,
and there are old newspapers by the door to soak up what you miss.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg looked down
at the rivulets of water trickling off her unflattering oilskin mac and
green-booted feet and shook her head, which caused more water to fly off her
plastic hood. Where else but in the bastion of an English village shop would
one be expected to clean up after oneself? Marg took hold of the mop and spread
its cotton threads over the floor. One did not argue with Hetty. Her shop had
been converted, not very imaginatively, from her cottage’s living and dining
rooms, and Marg supposed she still thought of it as her home.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Shelves stacked
with bottles, tins, and packets, which, to Marg’s eyes, looked not to have been
dusted or changed since her last visit, lined the walls. There was just enough
space for a central display stand packed with Mother’s Pride bread, Mr. Kipling
cakes and biscuits on one side, and toiletries and cleaning supplies on the
other. At the end of the counter, from behind which, Hetty owlishly surveyed
all who entered, stood a small cooler holding milk, butter, cheese, and eggs.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg knew it was
not Hetty’s way of doing business to ask if she could help her customers. The
customer had to do the asking, and Hetty would point a gnarled finger to the
items they wished to purchase. Cash would cross the counter, and that would be
it. No debit or credit cards for Hetty. Anyone who missed the ‘Cash Only’
notice on the door was invited to leave. Marg had no idea how Hetty managed to
keep her business going, but the locals were thankful for it as it was the only
shop in their small community.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Having purchased
the unsalted butter, cornstarch, and waxed paper she needed, Marg left the
shop, bending her head against the roaring wind and lashing rain. She threw her
shopping bag onto the passenger seat of the old Land Rover and squeezed in
behind the steering wheel. The weather reflected her mood, which transferred to
the gears as she viciously reefed through them.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The wipers barely
cleared the rain from the windshield as the Land Rover laboured up the lane to
Hill Farm, which took its name from the slopes rising steeply behind it. Bare,
blackened tree branches on either side rattled above her like sabres. Marg
peered ahead, steering between every pothole and wheel rut in the gravelled
surface. She knew them all.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And into this
moisture-laden mayhem, her sister was about to arrive. How could Ruth do this
to her after all this time? Marg didn’t even need to close her eyes to see the
note she’d received. It was too brief to be considered a letter.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Dear Marg<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Kenny and I are in
London and would love to come and spend some time with you and John. We’ll
travel down on Christmas Eve and stay for a few days. Hope that’s all right.
You will have stacks of that delicious shortbread you always used to make,
won’t you?<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Love, Ruth.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">That was it. No
return address on the rich but anonymous cream-coloured stationery. No
telephone number, text, or email contact.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“On purpose,” Marg
muttered. “She knew if I couldn’t contact her, I couldn’t say no.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg parked as
close as possible to the utility room door. Holding on to her plastic hood with
one hand and the shopping bag with the other, she dashed to the door, thanking
heaven that farmers were practical people who expected and provided for
extremes of weather. The old rush matting inside the door took the brunt of her
wet wellies as she kicked them off. The dogs, Harvey and Beau, brushed their
damp, smelly bodies against her in welcome, soaking up the rain from her mac
but leaving a swath of their yellow and black Labrador hair. She shooed them
back to their beds while she hung up her outdoor clothes, pushed her feet into ratty
looking but comfortable slippers and entered the warmth and peace of her
kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Well, it had been
peaceful when she left. Now it was something of a battlefield. Her daughter,
Penny, sat grumpily on one side of the long, pine table. An antique dealer
would describe it as distressed and probably sell it for a small fortune.
Penny’s brother, Mark, sat opposite her. Marg’s husband, John, sat in his usual
place at the head of the table. He sipped tea from a battered old enamel mug
which he refused to replace. Pottery broke. Enamel chipped but lasted longer.
End of argument.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg knew he
disliked the prospect of the impending visit as much as she did. Now it looked
as if the children were rebelling too.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Ask your mother.”
John pursed his lips and cast Marg a gloomy glance.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“It’s not fair,
Mum,” Penny complained. “I don’t want Mark sharing my room.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“For heavens’
sake,” Marg snapped. “Who said Mark had to share your room?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, where else
are Uncle Kenny and Aunty Ruth going to sleep if not in Mark’s room? They’re
not having mine.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’ll sleep in
Pilot’s stable and take the dogs for extra warmth,” Mark said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Good idea. That
pony would probably appreciate the company.” Marg went to the Aga, where a
large teapot sat warming and poured herself a cup of tea. Was it too early in
the day to add a tot of whisky? “There’s that foam mattress and your sleeping
bag from when you camped last summer with the Scouts. You should be cozy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh, wow.” Mark
suddenly looked cheerful. “Can I take a flask of hot chocolate and some cake
out there with me?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Whatever your
heart desires.” Marg passed a weary hand across her forehead as Mark scraped
his chair back and rushed upstairs.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“You never let me
sleep in Lark’s stable,” Penny grumbled as she stood.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“You never asked,”
Marg said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Bloody Aunt
Ruth.” Penny kicked the leg of her chair and stalked out of the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg recalled when
she kicked the leg of another chair, and her mother immediately told her to stop
that. At twenty-two, she was old enough to know better.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Her mother’s tears
and her father’s temper had flowed and raged for days, ever since her younger
sister, Ruth, announced she was going to Australia with her boyfriend, Kenny
Parker. Their father raged that she was going nowhere, especially with Kenny,
that skinny, spotty, good-for-nothing layabout. Ruth shouted back that she was
nineteen and could go where and with whom she pleased, and anyway, they had
already got passports and visas. Their flight was booked and paid for, and that
was that.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg sighed and
topped her tea before sitting in Penny’s recently vacated chair. Looking around
the kitchen, she realized that, except for a coat of paint and a new backsplash
behind the Belfast sink, Ruth would hardly see any difference. It saddened Marg
that twenty years had slipped by almost without her noticing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The early days
when she and John were first married were marvellous. They lived in the cottage
across the yard, helping her parents run the family sheep farm. One of their
shepherds occupied it now. He also helped raise and train their border collies.
Autumn, winter, spring, and summer did not mark their seasons. Breeding,
feeding, lambing, shearing, and all the other tasks necessary to maintain a
well-run farm, did. Marg’s father passed away quite suddenly, leaving her
mother in a permanent daze until she, too, gave up her grip on life and
peacefully followed him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ruth’s letters
then had been full of remorse that she had not been able to support Marg and
John, but in her heart, Marg knew this was not true. The letters became more
infrequent, and when they arrived, they told of endless blue skies, beach,
pool, tennis parties, and all the excitement of shopping in Melbourne. There
were postcards showing kangaroos and koalas, sheep and camels. Did they have
camels in Australia?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg wasn’t sure
but supposed it must be true for them to be on postcards. Photographs
occasionally accompanied the letters bearing the legends, ‘Me at Ayers Rock,’
‘Me scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef,’ ‘Me with opal miners.’ Me having a
great time. Me having no responsibilities, me obviously not working. Me! Me!
Me! Marg supposed all these adventures were because Ruth and Kenny had decided
not to have a family, but what was Kenny doing all this time, Marg wondered.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Penny and Mark
came back into the kitchen, still bickering. It was suddenly all too much. Marg
slammed her mug down on the table, making John and the children jump.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“You listen to
me,” she snapped, standing and gripping the back of her chair as if to gain
strength from the solid wood of it. “Ruth has been gone for twenty years. She’s
not coming back to live here. She’s coming for a couple of days’ visit. The
least you can do is be accommodating and welcoming. Ruth’s your aunt, for
heaven’s sake. Hill Farm was her home before it was yours. Yes, she chose to
leave, just as your father and I chose to stay here and run the farm, and
that’s all there is to it.” Marg paused for breath. “Penny, Mark, I don’t want
to hear another peep out of the pair of you. And you, John, can stop looking
like you’ve lost a pound and found sixpence. Ruth’s my sister. She’s the only
family I have outside of you lot. She may never get to come home again, and
what chance have I to visit Australia, even if I was invited? Oh.” Marg stopped
as something became blindingly clear to her. “You’re afraid I’ll want to go
back with her.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">John blustered it
was no such thing, and Penny and Mark quickly removed themselves from the
kitchen, sensing a disagreement brewing between their parents.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg pinned John
with a fierce glare. “That’s it, isn’t it? It’s not the fact that Ruth’s coming
to stay but that I might want to leave.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">John spread his
big hands with their square-tipped fingers down on the table and pushed himself
out of his chair. “You’ve got to admit you used to get pretty mopey when you
got Ruth’s letters. I knew I couldn’t put a step right for a few days after
they arrived. I put it down to jealousy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg bit her lip,
knowing John only spoke the truth. She nodded slowly. “It seemed like she had an
easier life than ours.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“But you don’t
know that.” John gripped her shoulder. “And who knows what kind of dance Kenny
might have led her? Come on. I’ll help you make up the bed in Mark’s room.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">~*~*~*~*~<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg could not
quite believe how they managed to pull everything together. For once, Penny and
Mark did everything she asked of them without arguing. They fetched boxes of
decorations from the attic and arranged the blue and silver tree on its stand. Now,
on Christmas Eve morning, everything was as festive and ready as it could be
for Ruth and Kenny’s arrival. There was only one thing left to do. Marg didn’t
even need her mother’s old cookbook. She knew the shortbread recipe by heart. Beat
one cup of brown sugar into two cups of softened butter, then add four to four
and a half cups of all-purpose flour. Simple.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">She placed the
butter and sugar in her mixing bowl and beat it until it was fluffy, then
carefully mixed in most of the flour. The dough was too soft, so she added more
flour until satisfied with the consistency. Humming to herself, she sprinkled
flour onto her pastry board, took the dough and began to knead it. She should
have made it yesterday and left it to chill overnight in the refrigerator. Now
she could only give it half an hour but filled that time with trimming Brussels
sprouts while she waited.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg kept a close
eye on the clock as she listened for the oven timer. At least the family was
out from under her feet while she busied herself with the food preparation.
Another glance at the clock had her reaching for the chilled dough. She
transferred this to a sheet of parchment paper and rolled it out. When she had
an almost perfect rectangle, she placed it on a baking sheet and cut it into
finger-sized strips. Using a fork, she pricked each strip several times before
putting the tray back in the fridge for another half an hour and then turning
the oven on to preheat.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Her mother had
made the preparation of Christmas dinner, and all the trimmings look so easy, Marg
thought now. She had paid attention and helped her mother, while Ruth always
managed to find something else to do and stay out of the way. Marg grinned
while taking the baking tray from the fridge and slipping it into the oven. If
Kenny had expected a home-cooked meal every evening, she didn’t mind betting he
was one disappointed man. The sound of car doors slamming made her look up,
frowning. They couldn’t be here already, could they? She wiped her hands on her
apron and opened the back door but gasped at the figure filling the doorway.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Kenny?” She
looked up at the well-built man with a tanned face and laughing grey eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“G’day, Marg.
Here, take these.” He handed her the shopping bags he carried.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Kenny?” she
repeated, still squinting at him. Of the skinny, spotty youth she remembered,
there was no sign. “My Lord, Australia’s been good to you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“We made the most
of our opportunities, that’s for sure.” Kenny stepped inside. “Hope we’re not
too early, but someone’s been hopping around like a shrimp on a barbie since
early this morning. Now she’s gone all shy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“No, I haven’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Kenny moved out of
the way, and tears sprang to Marg’s eyes when she saw her sister. Kenny, she
would have passed on the street and not known him, but Ruth, her dark brown
hair now fetchingly streaked with grey, she would have known anywhere. The
years rolled away as they fell into each other’s arms, hugging each other
tightly, words, for now, unnecessary. All the talking and catching up could
come later.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mark and John came
in from the yard. Penny wandered downstairs, a little shy but intrigued to meet
the visitors. Marg was happy to introduce her sister and brother-in-law to the
children. For once, Penny and Mark behaved impeccably. Mark asked Kenny what
Australia was like and grinned at the response, “bloody hot, mate.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ruth turned her
head and sniffed. “Is something burning?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg’s hands flew
to her face. “Oh, no.” She raced to the oven, grabbed a tea towel and opened
the door. Smoke billowed out. She wafted it away and stared in dismay at the
tray.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Mum,” Penny
breathed, stunned at the sight of the blackened offerings. “You never burn
anything.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg shook her
head as she emptied the tray into the waste bin. “There’s a first time for
everything, I suppose.” She looked at her sister. “Sorry, Ruth. I so wanted
everything to be just right for your homecoming.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ruth stepped
forward and hugged Marg. “Tell you what, why don’t we have coffee and then you
and I will make shortbread together.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg stared at
her. “You? Make shortbread?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“You’d be
surprised at what Ruthie can make.” Kenny pulled out a chair and sat on it.
“She’s been writing a cookery column for our local paper for the last few
years.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg’s mouth fell
open. “A cookery column?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ruth nodded. “It’s
been quite successful too. But in my last post, I promised my readers a
shortbread recipe. Would you please–pretty please– share yours?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg thought of
all the times Ruth was MIA when it came to anything in the kitchen. She heard
again her mother’s grumbles, the mutterings that Ruth would likely live on
fast-food and fresh air, and now, Ruth was asking for help making shortbread.
Marg smiled, then started to laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“How can I
refuse?” She shook her head. “Mum would be so impressed, and as it’s her
recipe, I don’t see why not, but we’ll have to run down to Hetty’s for more
butter.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Good Lord, is she
still running the shop?” Ruth sounded incredulous.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg nodded. They
collected their coats and left John and Kenny chatting as if they’d only seen
each other yesterday while Penny and Mark fired questions at Kenny about life
in Australia.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“They can come out
for a visit any time they like,” Ruth said quietly as they headed outside. “You
and John too.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg paused as she
opened the Land Rover’s door. “Ruth, I will do my best to make it happen. But
if we come for a visit, I expect you to make shortbread.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ruth clambered up
into the passenger seat. “I’ve missed you, sis. I’ve missed all this.” She
indicated the sweep of the hillside dotted with sheep, the windswept trees and
hedgerows, and the lowering grey sky. “But you know what I’ve missed most?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg swallowed the
lump in her throat and shook her head as she turned the key in the ignition.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Family,” Ruth
said, raising her voice over the cough and splutter of the engine as it came to
life. “Us. I remember all those Christmases when I’d do anything to get out of
doing chores, and now I so wish I hadn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The rain started
as Marg pulled up in front of Hetty’s shop. The sisters sat looking at the bow
windows on either side of the door, the sturdy limestone walls, and the
slightly overhanging roof.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hasn’t changed a
bit,” Ruth commented as they left the vehicle and stepped across the narrow
pavement.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marg pushed the
door open, listening to the clamour of the overhead, old-fashioned doorbell.
Hetty looked up from behind her counter. There was no welcoming smile, just her
usual owlish look, but Marg was sure there was a slight twitch at the corner of
her mouth when she saw Ruth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“You’re home
then,” Hetty said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">THE END<o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-36154976116991146322022-07-21T14:24:00.000-07:002022-07-21T14:24:00.558-07:00Another Milestone<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEARuIfvUoVsbY2jl1-T66pD41_JNkz3_ugSJzDTv7dtaskB8jnpo9NUGKrVha9wtk_LYdJ70wQKEVUO4JBAeFaT0C4reqv8yQuk1qxf40kj0eGr7b0Z93f7xix_5XHtUTNBYwdTlHCMoGaW_xcqb8aiW82wnvH6-ZX2xy1OkhgaOJonl7T9zWjr4/s3228/BWL-logo-2021Award-Chatham%20(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1888" data-original-width="3228" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEARuIfvUoVsbY2jl1-T66pD41_JNkz3_ugSJzDTv7dtaskB8jnpo9NUGKrVha9wtk_LYdJ70wQKEVUO4JBAeFaT0C4reqv8yQuk1qxf40kj0eGr7b0Z93f7xix_5XHtUTNBYwdTlHCMoGaW_xcqb8aiW82wnvH6-ZX2xy1OkhgaOJonl7T9zWjr4/s320/BWL-logo-2021Award-Chatham%20(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Yes, folks, I made the Books We Love bestseller list for 2021. It's always a pleasure to know that readers have been appreciating your books. Every time I say I'm putting writing behind me and retiring, I come up with another idea, then I reach a milestone like this, and off I go again. </p><p>My next book will be another contemporary western romance entitled Loving Georgia Caldwell. The blurb is written, the cover image selected, now I just have to write it. Publication date is September 1st, 2023. I can't think of a better way to celebrate what will be my 80th birthday! It's more than a year away but I can't quite believe it. Where have the years gone? Has anyone got any ideas?</p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-60841261549424962052022-07-21T14:03:00.001-07:002022-07-21T14:45:14.459-07:00The Magic of a Horse<p> </p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQSeAFFO1qhki4RxcVKlV6KEJMfhluzoBORuB6LN0KX9ISGqAI5x1GQIZjXStxHewBHQjR-WKTQZ5STdyAsz6Nlna1aG9jAYNTNcb-dTQxdwPaFJJmOetDG3htd3vw8M9f9lJRIKI3_lTiDwTDQCZak80oWHWt3ohjKQ6q8XC_OiLDyJwEWwMasgvr/s1601/Belinda%20and%20Lancer.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1178" data-original-width="1601" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQSeAFFO1qhki4RxcVKlV6KEJMfhluzoBORuB6LN0KX9ISGqAI5x1GQIZjXStxHewBHQjR-WKTQZ5STdyAsz6Nlna1aG9jAYNTNcb-dTQxdwPaFJJmOetDG3htd3vw8M9f9lJRIKI3_lTiDwTDQCZak80oWHWt3ohjKQ6q8XC_OiLDyJwEWwMasgvr/s320/Belinda%20and%20Lancer.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Belinda and Lancer</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Most
people have an interest or hobby about which they are passionate. It could be
gardening, golf, quilting or fishing. For me, it is horses. My parents, as
non-horsey people, never understood where my passion for all things equine
stemmed, but I lay this lifelong love of horses squarely on my father’s
shoulders.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">He faced a lengthy recovery period after surgery at the end of WWII that had nothing to do with war
wounds. His occupational therapy of
choice was making soft toys for his then unseen baby daughter. He arrived home
when I was two years old. I promptly howled at him but was quickly pacified by
the beautifully made animals he brought with him—a pink rabbit, an elephant,
two dogs, one white and the other black, and a blue felt horse with an arched
neck and flowing mane and tail. ‘Horsey’ became my instant love and constant
companion.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In
the post-war era, we still had door-to-door deliveries, and I quickly learned
the sound and names of the vendors’ horses and ponies. At six and seven years
old, spending long summer holidays in Cornwall, I knew and rode every one of
the beach ponies. At eight years old, I had my first formal riding lesson. At
nine and ten, I spent the summer holidays with my grandmother and two cousins
who were as horse-mad as me. It wasn’t long before we found riding stables
where we worked all summer for our rides. We handled the most bloody-minded
ponies imaginable, unaware at the time of the valuable lessons they taught us.
When I was thirteen, we moved to an urban area with not a horse in sight, but I
read about horses, drew horses, and hand-crafted horses from pipe-cleaners and
wool.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">When
I was sixteen and contemplating a career, my parents refused to let me leave
home and take up the prized working-pupil position I so coveted, which would
have earned me a horse riding instructor’s certificate. At eighteen, I left
home anyway and worked in a hunting stable until marriage and family ended that
career. When my daughter, by now a teenager, became interested in riding, we
haunted our local riding stables. Most evenings after riding, we would go to
the local pub, The Ragged Cot. It was here one evening that, after some quick calculations
on a napkin, she announced, “You know, Mum, with what we spend at the stables,
we could have a horse of our own.”</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">My
old dream of having a horse resurfaced. If we did this together, then having a
horse became financially viable. Between us, we agreed on our criteria. Our
horse would have to be of medium height and hardy as, having no stable, it
would have to live out. It had to be good in traffic as we had the prospect of
a lot of road riding before we got to bridle paths and other off-road tracks.
Sex, age, and colour were optional. Versatility for combining our equestrian
ambitions was essential. We started scouring the classifieds and travelled all
over our county and two neighbouring ones, only to become quickly disillusioned
with the vagaries of advertising.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">A
horse described as ‘onward bound’ had no brakes. A mare described as a ‘good
jumper’ was and proved it several times by jumping out of her paddock. After four days of a two-week trial and seeing the probability of
numerous looming liabilities, we returned her to her owner. As summer came to a
close and we had not found our dream horse, we decided to end our search for
that year. Then, in the last week of September, I opened the local paper and
was immediately drawn to an advert that read: ‘15hh chestnut gelding for sale.
Six-hundred pounds including tack.’</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Right
size, great price and, I thought, too good to be true. I put the paper aside
but picked up the phone two days later. The young woman who answered sounded
breathless, as if she’d been running, and said, “Oh, I’m so glad you called!”
Did we know each other? But no, Diana was simply anxious to sell her horse as
her wedding to a non-horse person was only weeks away.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Could
you tell me a bit about your horse?” I asked.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Well,”
she began, “his name is Paunt House Royal Lancer, and he’s a full-bred Arab
and—”</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I
stopped her there. We didn’t want a full-bred anything, especially something as
exotic as an Arab horse.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“But
you must at least come and meet him,” she exclaimed. “He’s a lovely person.”</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Now,
the concept of a horse being a ‘lovely person’ was a bit beyond me, but I got
swept up in her enthusiasm and arranged to meet her and her horse the following
Sunday. She said to look for a white-walled house with a red-tiled roof beside
a bus stop. We had no trouble following her directions. Paddocks and neatly
kept flowerbeds surrounded the house. As my daughter and I walked up the garden
path, the front door opened, and Diana greeted us like old friends.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“You’re
perfect,” she said as she looked us over. “Lancer is going to love you. This
way.”</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">We
followed her around the back of the house, slightly bemused by her certainty
that we would be Lancer’s new owners. We stopped at the paddock gate,
immediately entranced with the sight before us. Beauty, it is said, is in the
eye of the beholder, but here beauty stood almost knee-deep in lush green
grass.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Here
was a horse whose coat glowed as brightly as the crust of a loaf of bread fresh
from the oven. The graceful curve of his neck and head, the crescent-shaped
tips of his ears and the flaring, questing nostrils declared him a true Arab
horse, the fabled drinker of the wind. Behind the fringe of his thick forelock,
we could see one full, round eye, gleaming with interest, intelligence, and
unmistakable kindness.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">We
stood silent and stunned as he came toward us. His legs parted the grass
soundlessly, making him appear to glide rather than walk. His warm and moist,
sweet-smelling breath washed over us as he gently nuzzled us in turn. We drank
in the magic of his greeting and called him ours.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-13402861651101567402022-06-06T09:53:00.004-07:002022-06-06T09:53:56.940-07:00A New Review<p> Authors appreciate an honest review and I was very happy to have this one from Theresa Wilson of Wanderlust Canadian <a href="https://wanderlustcanadian.wixsite.com/wanderlustcanadian/post/his-dark-enchantress-book-review">here.</a></p><p>His Dark Enchantress was my first published novel and I still have a soft spot for the heroine, Emmaline. You can look at her details <a href="https://www.bookswelove.net/chatham-victoria/">here</a> on my Books We Love author page, or go <a href="https://books2read.com/His-Dark-Enchantress">here</a> for purchase platforms.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijOvGyI2KrRDnUFFXA-s0U0I9vKOn79EqXI-U7qR4UTGd4QQb7_ylh6OyiN1SnBQaeHndscqu_TEkOYvpw6fBr9MUMMb_1YjDKsqy3od9jr_h708RvRz7EDbSATkHaduFhIJ8OhkMtxepiMLA7rYNVkQxtNRX3uWS3JF0AjLhYvcqj3pDH_nq39V0k/s1600/Chatham-DarkEnchantress%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijOvGyI2KrRDnUFFXA-s0U0I9vKOn79EqXI-U7qR4UTGd4QQb7_ylh6OyiN1SnBQaeHndscqu_TEkOYvpw6fBr9MUMMb_1YjDKsqy3od9jr_h708RvRz7EDbSATkHaduFhIJ8OhkMtxepiMLA7rYNVkQxtNRX3uWS3JF0AjLhYvcqj3pDH_nq39V0k/s320/Chatham-DarkEnchantress%20(2).jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-10821931781034734612022-06-03T15:22:00.000-07:002022-06-03T15:22:09.757-07:00<p> Phoebe Fisher is live! The paperback edition will be available on June 15th, 2022.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijUyulRy2vIyMVjrzPmFRUTeSBvDXTSsZYGGfr-SVIsd1SjDltPBMDDrCN4-5t6WVbGtc_OL2ft6OWLlqH1ogSQnxthAUmiibC3hMhwAOv8pjuILrK5-OIhKJPypm2jrtCPAuYHqeuV7bqJ_r3XwYUU-VEnOCdRAF3w28H4k3BwdzvWai0V34hKst5/s2775/Chatham-PhoebeFisher%20(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2775" data-original-width="1850" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijUyulRy2vIyMVjrzPmFRUTeSBvDXTSsZYGGfr-SVIsd1SjDltPBMDDrCN4-5t6WVbGtc_OL2ft6OWLlqH1ogSQnxthAUmiibC3hMhwAOv8pjuILrK5-OIhKJPypm2jrtCPAuYHqeuV7bqJ_r3XwYUU-VEnOCdRAF3w28H4k3BwdzvWai0V34hKst5/s320/Chatham-PhoebeFisher%20(1).jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://books2read.com/Phoebe-Fisher"></a><a href="https://books2read.com/Phoebe-Fisher">AVAILABLE HERE</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Out of all my heroines, Phoebe was the most fun to write. Here are some of the locations in Gloucester that I used for settings in the story.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The front entrance to the 1,000-year-old Gloucester Cathedral with its impressive statuary above the door.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0kVecCT8Ka7q-pwc9J-I06E1pEYQpFceqYU-MRdjCAacPezuHqFZkf6hllA4rxzzCdLtrIRhBFA_ArJQMNLG8r-GNx30yE1Iyzouk5p3cWaaei-UhjYL9nhIB67gQNPOrdZqz4PcPORgpzms7OvnXJ6LO1qN2R8vYqR-TeUtaFB_k4zkfRxZ8Bile/s2560/20220422_113737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0kVecCT8Ka7q-pwc9J-I06E1pEYQpFceqYU-MRdjCAacPezuHqFZkf6hllA4rxzzCdLtrIRhBFA_ArJQMNLG8r-GNx30yE1Iyzouk5p3cWaaei-UhjYL9nhIB67gQNPOrdZqz4PcPORgpzms7OvnXJ6LO1qN2R8vYqR-TeUtaFB_k4zkfRxZ8Bile/s320/20220422_113737.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The New Inn, Gloucester, is believed to be the finest galleried inn in England and dates back to the 15th century. I used these images to recreate The Bell Inn.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzMT4l-2Mb0LcsYk6DPGBud4QMMWjb65kh8FW1w0zqHMnMuXUr9Nwvk9ZRV2boIyr1t8990ZVaAMJSKTHWyMYPZfjz6OnSxvfhqi7Dl4saa47tMpoRyO3aINsHJzMU5NslQmzmZZX8K7W49HycJ2mIdukW-mPUqt8S3Ngtga8sX8qE-P69h959H27u/s2560/20220422_123515.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzMT4l-2Mb0LcsYk6DPGBud4QMMWjb65kh8FW1w0zqHMnMuXUr9Nwvk9ZRV2boIyr1t8990ZVaAMJSKTHWyMYPZfjz6OnSxvfhqi7Dl4saa47tMpoRyO3aINsHJzMU5NslQmzmZZX8K7W49HycJ2mIdukW-mPUqt8S3Ngtga8sX8qE-P69h959H27u/s320/20220422_123515.jpg" width="180" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjdIp-xJENF3fzXQ-prRt7OFBOGFQGYhsLFA5MwuYQipA4BSxlyQ0WYiSfsLEIOnHPZXrMw7_zhP2TSD1YglBxCTPVi2aypofVLRpiGLGyP0POErveupiUpBDM1hwB-9FAFCEfsXbrhmhqoKuURxyuqFbv0sFKElNqAWMy7Zbf37J1bIqCeV1usJRN/s2560/20220422_123641_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjdIp-xJENF3fzXQ-prRt7OFBOGFQGYhsLFA5MwuYQipA4BSxlyQ0WYiSfsLEIOnHPZXrMw7_zhP2TSD1YglBxCTPVi2aypofVLRpiGLGyP0POErveupiUpBDM1hwB-9FAFCEfsXbrhmhqoKuURxyuqFbv0sFKElNqAWMy7Zbf37J1bIqCeV1usJRN/s320/20220422_123641_HDR.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Robert Raikes published the Gloucester Journal but was better known for his promotion of Sunday schools which were the forerunner of the English state schooling system. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8iowjyV3HNJRi0wn2oDfgrPZUjlMPoWxGS6BKz8FZ58QtsR98iZV-9679UjmKsvi_eSpBoj9weTLMaHc8YRgKCEQPbHrQu_MHpTkOv_le1fT0lDsbd45qVeZygjlmr_RzBHpls__ZElvic3D73wp6GD9jIn4AE2tUsWJlxz7bEf7eLJXcpeZ_TeE/s1874/Robert%20Raikes%20House.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1433" data-original-width="1874" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8iowjyV3HNJRi0wn2oDfgrPZUjlMPoWxGS6BKz8FZ58QtsR98iZV-9679UjmKsvi_eSpBoj9weTLMaHc8YRgKCEQPbHrQu_MHpTkOv_le1fT0lDsbd45qVeZygjlmr_RzBHpls__ZElvic3D73wp6GD9jIn4AE2tUsWJlxz7bEf7eLJXcpeZ_TeE/s320/Robert%20Raikes%20House.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I always enjoy visiting my family and my home county and can't wait for the next visit.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-75280887146491817872022-01-19T14:05:00.000-08:002023-11-20T15:02:40.807-08:00An Invitation to . . . <p> . . . Phoebe's wedding. Regency weddings were far simpler events than they often are today. Members of the ton, the upper echelons of society, married at St. George's Parish Church, located in Mayfair. As many as three ceremonies a day took place there, which did not give much time between one couple and the next. So there was no decorating the church as is often the way these days. The white wedding gown that is so much the hallmark of modern weddings did not become popular until Queen Victoria married Prince Albert on the 10th of February 1840. </p><p>But back to Phoebe. For a simple family wedding, there would be very few in attendance. The minister and clerk, bride and groom, their parents, and their friends. The bride might have had a bridesmaid and the groom a best man. These would have also stood witness to the marriage. The bride might have worn her best dress, sometimes, her only dress and a light meal would have been served in the bride's home. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjdu3OQ4b7IDmME5OdOClnSizR83zbnCOQhkfLtI4fE_EINYZHJ6CTskPiSR1RqvLx3xFeOeyGFA00R5uGRkDsy_Y1gVQQO9JQHkFsmQu_IY5eaWXO4nRRdDPHNrG_i286ppHKFz-_Ho-1Ep0TY1ZuHoCHy8-xH9zG4eQJ5pfde_fjc1L4mUNlG9bfH=s2560" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjdu3OQ4b7IDmME5OdOClnSizR83zbnCOQhkfLtI4fE_EINYZHJ6CTskPiSR1RqvLx3xFeOeyGFA00R5uGRkDsy_Y1gVQQO9JQHkFsmQu_IY5eaWXO4nRRdDPHNrG_i286ppHKFz-_Ho-1Ep0TY1ZuHoCHy8-xH9zG4eQJ5pfde_fjc1L4mUNlG9bfH=s320" width="180" /></a></div><br /><p>Phoebe's father and aunt insist that she have a new outfit for her wedding. For this, I made use of illustrations in Tom Tierney's Fashions of the Regency Period Paper Dolls (Dover Publications Inc 1996.) I have never gone as far as cutting these out as the book is far more useful to me in its entirety.</p><p>I chose the jacket and bodice of one design and added it to the skirt of another. The spencer jacket is rose-pink crushed velvet, the gown is lavender satin with purple trim. Her frilled bonnet is trimmed with rose-pink crushed velvet ribbon, and she wears purple satin shoes. </p><p>Next week, I'll show you what her groom, Lord Andrew Fitzgibbon, will wear.</p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-30814192563945974492022-01-13T14:51:00.000-08:002022-01-13T14:51:03.173-08:00What's New in 2022<p> So here I am, at it again. Writing, that is. The current work in progress is Those Regency Belles Book 3, Phoebe Fisher. Here's the premise:</p><p class="MsoNormal">Phoebe Fisher’s generous dowry attracts many suitors. When
they discover Phoebe’s one notable and outstanding flaw, they depart as quickly
as they arrive, and she loses hope of ever finding a suitor who will love her
just as she is.</p><p class="MsoNormal">After an absence of ten years, Andrew Fitzgibbon returns
home to discover he is the sole heir to his deceased uncle’s title and estates,
but it will take a fortune to save it. Although reluctant to press his suit to
a young lady simply for her wealth, Andrew finds her intriguing and suggests a
union that might suit them both. Phoebe agrees, but then events from Andrew’s
past cloud their new life together.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Will these threats make or break them? Will their marriage
of convenience grow into a love match, or will Pheobe never know what it is to
love and be loved?</p><p class="MsoNormal">Today I'm also designing Phoebe's wedding gown. I'll show you that next week.</p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"> </span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-17483222256342132262021-12-18T00:30:00.001-08:002021-12-18T00:30:00.158-08:00Family Experiences in My Writing<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZm6clbKIhHPYYjkw_4luS4rgbF5V8cKhotE9PZ9Q-fvzML-2Dn69xVJYO_nXjCO5jf4XCLdo6vgyCrADCygrG_OKk5gL1GvpaJjdGSI9mvD7ANTG3Ll5g8DeWPlyVYG-flICdsArZeAUA0NjyrqLdGgPvuexTRrA2D8Vso_8pzWfBAn_XwA3YZ9GR=s375" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="375" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZm6clbKIhHPYYjkw_4luS4rgbF5V8cKhotE9PZ9Q-fvzML-2Dn69xVJYO_nXjCO5jf4XCLdo6vgyCrADCygrG_OKk5gL1GvpaJjdGSI9mvD7ANTG3Ll5g8DeWPlyVYG-flICdsArZeAUA0NjyrqLdGgPvuexTRrA2D8Vso_8pzWfBAn_XwA3YZ9GR=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br />This month - the last of 2021 and let's hope they all improve by leaps and bounds in 2022 - Rhobin asked: How do your family experiences translate into writing scenes?<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I had to think about
this topic as nothing immediately sprang to mind. What were my family
experiences? After thinking long and hard, one word came to mind –
movement. Nothing is static, but my family always seemed to be on the move in
one way or another. Post-WWII uncles and aunts in the forces were still coming
and going. Some were gone altogether, having lost their lives in that conflict.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My father, a career
soldier, was demobbed but couldn’t settle in civvy street and joined the army
again. Dad was posted from one Territorial Army unit to the next, and we moved
every year from one married quarters address to the next. Ironically his title
was Permanent Gunnery Staff Sarjeant Major to Territorial Units. Although the
title was permanent, there was nothing permanent about our family life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When Dad finally left
the Armed Forces, we moved again to the job he took post-army. I moved on as
soon as I could to work with horses. The next move was to my parents-in-law’s
home, then into our first apartment, followed by another apartment when my then-husband
took a new job. Our next move was into a new house where we stayed put for a
few years. Unfortunately, that situation changed after separation and divorce.
New home, here we come. We landed up in a charming but chilly 300-year old
country house which was my favourite house of anywhere I have ever lived. After
that came another not as old house, but a mere stripling at 100-years old.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The next move was a big
one. I left England and arrived in Canada in 1990 but homes were never
permanent even here. What started as a reasonably comfortable apartment in one
building became inconvenient with job changes, making a move across town the
sensible thing to do. Since I’ve lived in Canada, I’ve had eight moves. I
never, ever imagined I’d become something of an expert in packing and moving.
This movement appears in all the books I’ve written.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhvRNPnHGk-ACXw27BVTTuaqdv0kH6jBOYWc9wI_pMDm0XhdmaFBVz4GcnZAJr3oa19Uf2DxkOo37vLHoFYqA5rc97Z0NfX0X24aHE453Oi2fX3Ay4NLQb7DsPqEJo7Jgu4P33tRLZvoT7IyLAk518vw7xgPMTLO6Flcc1rfI7X8nobcFsR_3faIfIu=s600" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="503" data-original-width="600" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhvRNPnHGk-ACXw27BVTTuaqdv0kH6jBOYWc9wI_pMDm0XhdmaFBVz4GcnZAJr3oa19Uf2DxkOo37vLHoFYqA5rc97Z0NfX0X24aHE453Oi2fX3Ay4NLQb7DsPqEJo7Jgu4P33tRLZvoT7IyLAk518vw7xgPMTLO6Flcc1rfI7X8nobcFsR_3faIfIu=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/chathambwl?fbclid=IwAR2ikAhfhojcWzryLfpP3epfBABX96ktldpMzZcNM4MMS7oYGnxOkvmXdWs" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; animation-name: none !important; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; outline: none; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; transition-property: none !important;" target="_blank"><span style="animation-name: none !important; transition-property: none !important;">https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/chathambwl</span></a></span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Lord and Lady Buxton
from the Buxton Chronicles travel from England to California in Books 1 and 2.
In Book 3 of the trilogy, Lord Buxton leaves England to fight for King and
Country during WWI with all the movement that entailed.</span>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In Book 1 of the
Berkeley Square books, my first Regency series, Emmaline Devereaux has been in
Spain during the Peninsular Wars, and after returning home and marrying Lord
Lucius Clifton, is kidnapped and taken to France. In Book 2, Lady Juliana
Beamish is on her way to India when her ship is attacked by pirates.
She finds herself alone on the ocean and rescued by a captain who is on course
for Jamaica. Book 3 in the series finds Lady Olivia Darnley abandoned by her
mother, ultimately leaving London for the refuge of her family estate in
Lincolnshire.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My contemporary Western
romances have leading characters who move from one place to another. In Loving
That Cowboy, Trisha Watts leaves her home in England for a vacation in Calgary
during Stampede. Then, in Legacy of Love, Callie Wade moves from Vancouver to
Southern Alberta. In my Canadian Historical Brides book, Brides of Banff
Springs set in 1935, young Tilly McCormack makes her way from her home near
Medicine Hat to Banff to work at the famous Banff Springs Hotel. In Envy the Wind,
another title in the Canadian Historical Brides series and on which I collaborated
with author Anita Davison, Grace MacKinnon escapes from a life of drudgery in Edwardian
England and makes a life for herself in Prince Edward Island. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For my second Regency
series, Those Regency Belles, Hester Dymock in Book 1 moves only a few miles
from her small but comfortable home and faces much more of a journey than that.
Book 2 sees Charlotte Gray having to move for her safety, and in Book 3,
currently in progress, my heroine moves from her family home to that of the man
she marries. That her husband has served in King George III’s Royal Navy and
tells her tales of his travels makes this something of An Arabian Nights tale.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Other family
experiences, which may be more family traits, are that my characters are for
the most part kind, honest people. I hope those factors make them stand out a
little more.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I wish you everything you wish for yourselves for this holiday season but before you go, please check out my fellow bloggers here for what family experiences they use for inspiration:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Anne
Stenhouse </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; text-decoration-line: none;">http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com</span></a></span><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Dr.
Bob Rich </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2ue" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc;">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2ue</span></a></span><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Connie
Vines </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0563c1;">http://mizging.blogspot.com</span></a></span><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">/<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Skye
Taylor </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; text-decoration-line: none;">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a></span><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marci
Baun </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; text-decoration-line: none;">http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/</span></a></span><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Judith
Copek </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; text-decoration-line: none;">http://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/</span></a></span><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Diane
Bator </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://dbator.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; text-decoration-line: none;">http://dbator.blogspot.ca/</span></a></span><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Victoria
Chatham </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.victoriachatham.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; text-decoration-line: none;">http://www.victoriachatham.com</span></a></span><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Rhobin
L Courtright </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.rhobincourtright.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; text-decoration-line: none;">http://www.rhobincourtright.com</span></a></span><span style="color: #500050; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <span lang="EN-CA"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-91362381432636416792021-11-20T13:07:00.001-08:002021-11-20T13:07:32.304-08:00The Baddie in Books<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv1v9n5MVb1c3bvnxfMMeIP1a45dWQrkexPD4pINGnEaALBe5BE-hpvHe7YsSF2_zOaznSigweC2MuksAunil41887XXnoB3MUB5H_OmzhYQU-FqJfehhYQpZ7ptSA9pd4j7krbWuzsM/s375/Round+Robin+logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="375" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv1v9n5MVb1c3bvnxfMMeIP1a45dWQrkexPD4pINGnEaALBe5BE-hpvHe7YsSF2_zOaznSigweC2MuksAunil41887XXnoB3MUB5H_OmzhYQU-FqJfehhYQpZ7ptSA9pd4j7krbWuzsM/w200-h200/Round+Robin+logo.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /> <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">For this month, Robin has asked us to describe a flawed or evil character we have or might use in a story. How did
they become so flawed? What part will they play in the story and what will
happen to them?</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I always have trouble creating evil characters. I
would say that most have mine have been flawed in some way rather than truly
evil. Except for, maybe, Sir Peregrine Styles in my first Regency romance, <i>His
Dark Enchantress</i>. Sir Peregrine was very much a depraved character,
particularly in the satisfaction he derived from causing pain or trouble to
others. He was a narcissist, manipulator, and opportunist all rolled into one
character but none of that was greatly surprising given the era and the mores of the strata of society
he grew up in.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">People being people, and our characters are people if
only in our minds and books, good and bad can come from anywhere. The best of
families could have one bad apple. A family in the poorest area of town may
have a dad with a heart of gold and a mum who will do anything for her children
first and her neighbours after that.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">People can and do change. Rose of Sharon in
Steinbeck’s <i>Grapes of Wrath</i> spring to mind.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW4BO8eHqh9OsKE59MPg9-DRG35dJUd5xL_KDOAzVoayxr-JyFU5SqikjVkIWviZdkxEeu9eY6a9ziPzI3rjO3yarMEvMRkKSH-ftQLfWrkJ8-IDqC8UIv-p4zCYmBtZ12eqSrnHIca9s/s218/The+Grapes+of+Wrath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="141" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW4BO8eHqh9OsKE59MPg9-DRG35dJUd5xL_KDOAzVoayxr-JyFU5SqikjVkIWviZdkxEeu9eY6a9ziPzI3rjO3yarMEvMRkKSH-ftQLfWrkJ8-IDqC8UIv-p4zCYmBtZ12eqSrnHIca9s/s0/The+Grapes+of+Wrath.jpg" width="141" /></a></div> Circumstances can mold a person.
Disappointment after disappointment may eventually turn a happy, positive
person bitter and cause them to seek revenge against those he or she believes responsible.
Being brought up in an abusive household may produce an abuser or someone
who would never lift a finger against another person.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As authors, building the backstory for a flawed or
evil character is as intriguing and circuitous as those of our main characters
and, dare I say, might take a bit more of a psychological twist. Writing
historical fiction means dipping into the social history of the period whether,
in my case, it is the Regency or Edwardian eras. The class structure was pretty
much adhered to. People ‘knew their place.’ But within that structure, the mores
of the Regency became stricter through the Victorian era and began to ease
again in the Edwardian era, especially the La Belle Epoch era in Europe which dated
from the early 1870s up until the outbreak of World War 1.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Regency characters who held ambitions to rise above
their place in society might be referred to as ‘mushrooms.’ The term ‘nabob,’
originally denoting an official under the Mughal Empire, came to be used
somewhat derisively for a pretentious person, especially one growing his own
wealth rather than inheriting it. After all, the definition of a gentleman then was someone who did not work for his living but off the wealth generated by his estates.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My current ‘baddie’ is one Ruby Baker in the third
book, <i>Phoebe Fisher</i>, in my series <i>Those Regency Belles</i>. Ruby is a barmaid with
took my hero’s promises to heart. In a drunken moment as an eighteen-year-old and
about to embark on his first voyage, Andrew promised to bring her jewels from
India. Ten years later, Ruby arrives on his doorstep to collect them. Why such a time span? Well, a voyage to India could take a minimum of four months. Depending on what happened during the voyage, pirates, storms, being blown off course, it could take a year. And then you turned around and possibly faced the same problems on the return journey. That was without any other detours. However,
now Andrew has inherited a title and gained a wife. What will Ruby do? I’m
still working on that.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Visit my fellow authors listed here and see what they
are working on.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Anne
Stenhouse </span><a href="http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-decoration-line: none;">http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Dr.
Bob Rich </span><a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2ue" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2ue</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Connie
Vines </span><a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0563c1; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">http://mizging.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">/<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Skye
Taylor </span><a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-decoration-line: none;">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Marci
Baun </span><a href="http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-decoration-line: none;">http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Diane
Bator </span><a href="http://dbator.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-decoration-line: none;">http://dbator.blogspot.ca/</span></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Rhobin
L Courtright </span><a href="http://www.rhobincourtright.com/" style="background-color: transparent;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-decoration-line: none;">http://www.rhobincourtright.com</span></a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-42299576977831544562021-10-23T00:30:00.004-07:002021-10-23T00:30:00.187-07:00Things That Go Bump in the Night<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnqzrRx9WN_GeisKI6xwSIhePKmwlQIF8TTHOrU28DUcF3qaiJtH0_uX-nFwz5sGXY5AL0pB3pJodKvfvDXeGL-TILTegkijk5ZYzF0rWDGpsDqcBRUDrsbRCKnHJ35mnK2sf10J03Lo/s192/Round+Robin+logo+2015.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="191" data-original-width="192" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnqzrRx9WN_GeisKI6xwSIhePKmwlQIF8TTHOrU28DUcF3qaiJtH0_uX-nFwz5sGXY5AL0pB3pJodKvfvDXeGL-TILTegkijk5ZYzF0rWDGpsDqcBRUDrsbRCKnHJ35mnK2sf10J03Lo/s0/Round+Robin+logo+2015.jpg" width="192" /></a></div><br />Our Round Robin leader asked us to share a childhood memory or scariest experience of <span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">October
31</span><sup style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">st</sup><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">. All Hallow’s Eve or Hallowe’en, the one night in the year when
ghosts, ghouls, witches and wizards, sprites and gobbledygook’s are supposed to
go bump in the night.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Growing
up in post-war England, although we all knew what Halloween was, I don’t ever
recall celebrating it in the way it is celebrated today. The festivals I do
remember were Christmas, New Year, and Easter. In a few of the locations we
lived there were also Mayday celebrations, usually in the form of a church or village fete, dancing around the Maypole being a feature of the latter.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It
wasn’t until my children were growing up that we began to have Halloween
parties. We might have decorated inside the house with tattered rags hung over
a pointy hat and a cobweb or two populated by homemade spiders, but there were
no outside displays as can be seen today. There were no costumes no trick or
treating, just simple games like apple bobbing, hide and seek in the dark, and
carving jack o’ lanterns. One year I found a set of red glassware which made
whatever liquid in it look a bit like blood but, as the kids attending that
party didn’t much like the effect, it was never repeated. Definitely different
from today when it seems the gorier the better. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But
why all the interest in Hallowe’en? Traditionally, from the earliest pagans
until now, October 31<sup>st</sup> has been celebrated as a festival of
darkness. It is the time of year when the veil between the living and the dead
is considered to be at its thinnest, allowing departed souls to return and walk
among us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
some cultures, an extra place will be laid at the table. In others, to keep
dead souls away, bonfires will be lit and those brave enough among the living
may jump over them. Mexico’s</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZEenJFFoOrcjwOD4tXZDi80fRQvbtX88pvhcPgK8MbAPagWkvdHAoTDIa7Ep7IHWJvKyspMujD0CWAK_WStbgc2X6c6bJtvJEr41BzZMaJILCT0GaKt-cGXxdeB6IKNIZYIpQpL6i8c/s275/Day+of+the+Dead.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZEenJFFoOrcjwOD4tXZDi80fRQvbtX88pvhcPgK8MbAPagWkvdHAoTDIa7Ep7IHWJvKyspMujD0CWAK_WStbgc2X6c6bJtvJEr41BzZMaJILCT0GaKt-cGXxdeB6IKNIZYIpQpL6i8c/s0/Day+of+the+Dead.jpg" width="275" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">courtesy bloomberg.com</td></tr></tbody></table><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /> Dia de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead, is
probably known world-wide. For Wiccans, Hallowe’en, or Samhain (Sowin) is celebrated
as one of the four great Sabbats forming the Wheel of the Year.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
don’t remember any scary experience from my childhood years but my scariest
Hallowe’en was the one when my Dear Departed Husband, who was a
dyed-in-the-wool Stephen King fan, decided we should watch the movie IT, with
Tim Curry playing the role of Pennywise. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixXUKhH6J-TxKZ1K8xpybdcAs5ufFlyQo5qhGOjyygHHrBTzfxJu_-ZV8Yzr2tMH212OUC9cBKehEoGtmC2SI9D1zP_jLxOWvs6m_qOJm3DkI7VCJrz29SzlOZbYfJbRkYRn4aBcML-XM/s263/Tim+Curry.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="263" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixXUKhH6J-TxKZ1K8xpybdcAs5ufFlyQo5qhGOjyygHHrBTzfxJu_-ZV8Yzr2tMH212OUC9cBKehEoGtmC2SI9D1zP_jLxOWvs6m_qOJm3DkI7VCJrz29SzlOZbYfJbRkYRn4aBcML-XM/s0/Tim+Curry.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tim Curry in makeup for Pennywise<br />courtesy reddit.com</td></tr></tbody></table><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />We closed the drapes, lit candles, and
sat down to watch the movie. But—I have never liked clowns (coulorphobia) and as
the movie played out I either covered my eyes or my ears, much to his amusement.
When I said I’d had enough and was going into another room to read, he realized
that I was not joking. I’m not sure if he watched the movie to the end but he
did promise that there would never be a repeat performance, and there never was.
<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It’s
fair to say I am not much of a Hallowe’en fan but don’t mind the trick or
treaters, although I do wonder if any of them would be happy with one little
soul cake as was the tradition. Children and poor people would go round to wealthy
houses promising to pray for the people of the house if they provided a cake
(treat) or a trick (some form of mischief) if they were sent away empty handed.
Next, visit these Round Robin bloggers to see what trick or treat they might
have in store for you.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Skye Taylor <a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="color: #222222;">Anne Stenhouse </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com&source=gmail&ust=1635028595862000&usg=AFQjCNEHysPTP_sX5eFEMzOiVWmoqM2Ztw" href="http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration-line: none;">http://annestenhousenovelist.<wbr></wbr>wordpress.com</span></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Marci Baun <a href="http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Connie Vines <a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc;">http://mizging.blogspot.com/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dr. Bob Rich <a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2sc" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc;">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2sc</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Rhobin L
Courtright <a href="http://www.rhobincourtright.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.rhobincourtright.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-47722714886955670432021-09-18T00:30:00.002-07:002021-09-18T00:30:00.167-07:00September (already?) Round Robin<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv1v9n5MVb1c3bvnxfMMeIP1a45dWQrkexPD4pINGnEaALBe5BE-hpvHe7YsSF2_zOaznSigweC2MuksAunil41887XXnoB3MUB5H_OmzhYQU-FqJfehhYQpZ7ptSA9pd4j7krbWuzsM/s375/Round+Robin+logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="375" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv1v9n5MVb1c3bvnxfMMeIP1a45dWQrkexPD4pINGnEaALBe5BE-hpvHe7YsSF2_zOaznSigweC2MuksAunil41887XXnoB3MUB5H_OmzhYQU-FqJfehhYQpZ7ptSA9pd4j7krbWuzsM/s320/Round+Robin+logo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Where does the time go? Here we are in September 2021, still dealing one way or another with covid and all that goes with it. Thank goodness we have our writing to keep fingers and minds busy. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The topic posed for this month is - besides novels, do you write in other genres? Have you ever written nonfiction?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Well, yes and yes. My preferred genre is historical romantic fiction, but I have also written two contemporary western romances with a third beginning to gel. However, the processes of gelling and the actual writing are both a bit slower than they were. But, before</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> I started
writing novels, I wrote short stories and newspaper and magazine articles
before that. I liked pitching ideas to magazines that interested me or
following through if magazine editors called for articles on a topic of their
choice.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sadly, of all the
publications my work appeared in, only one remains active. I’m happy to say their demise had nothing to do with my writing, but production
costs, dwindling subscriptions, and the editor’s retirement in one tiny
publishing house hit home.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1t33A0j9GRSyr74M3fe7WhP9P7B6UFrIPHKzeMFKTtjs8YaGoEWNUYzTLoeg0NUKkB_ISJWEf_8ljh7I4SgKlYmvC_9IKsTA4KiU9ifdyP7dQPZZI4FUSK94Z8EtD791sRzX_rA9uWZQ/s1427/Duet+and+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1427" data-original-width="1360" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1t33A0j9GRSyr74M3fe7WhP9P7B6UFrIPHKzeMFKTtjs8YaGoEWNUYzTLoeg0NUKkB_ISJWEf_8ljh7I4SgKlYmvC_9IKsTA4KiU9ifdyP7dQPZZI4FUSK94Z8EtD791sRzX_rA9uWZQ/w191-h200/Duet+and+me.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, teenage groom and hunter</td></tr></tbody></table><br />From the horses and dogs
that were part of my life to beer festivals and medieval faires, my travels at
home in the UK and abroad, I managed a fair range from being paid with six free
copies of one magazine to a heady $800 plus, this for an article on a medieval fair. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The magazine assigned me a professional photographer for the day. He
had never worked with a writer, while said writer (me) had never worked with a photographer,
professional or not. We started the day off by discussing what we were looking
for and then parted company, me to interview performers and visitors, he to
take as many photographs as he could of whatever interested him. We met up at the end of the afternoon and found that we had, amazingly, opted for the same subjects.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7U_4brkerV-VrbTUtOnsYihShVk9iD1-HGqlbrnJ_-JcCJznfi8eAya6mKG0FAQaV1G_EGWLdMMWaAKP241_zQPzj6NCCTjzeb4fpDMWIx4NfONBI3xefnhM3FLQB-aY0pVbAfRYlI4w/s474/jousters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="265" data-original-width="474" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7U_4brkerV-VrbTUtOnsYihShVk9iD1-HGqlbrnJ_-JcCJznfi8eAya6mKG0FAQaV1G_EGWLdMMWaAKP241_zQPzj6NCCTjzeb4fpDMWIx4NfONBI3xefnhM3FLQB-aY0pVbAfRYlI4w/s320/jousters.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jousting UK</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The most spectacular
event of any medieval fair is the jousting. The photographer’s images were stunning,
and I benefited from interviewing an international jouster still dressed in his
100 lbs of full armour. The fair organizers were thrilled with the warm, sunny weather,
but it must have been like living in an oven for all the jousters. The most
entertaining group were the members of GNIVIL, the Living Backwards Society.
Their research and attention to detail of all things medieval, including
authentic hand-carved chairs, trunks and rope beds, from which the saying sleep
tight originated, was a little like having a personal history lesson from each interview.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGpQphS4frFJPGvRgjP03mMQC2Cv8kUn5iyarbfSXysM8XHjzzcZaXKYgYT8pDNBLvG2EASLy-BdNV6ZIWsnrZXEpBv3_uJYtey-9UHVaYAKpi0LcTankHCWxhOQEcrBfK30nrAB316c/s720/GNIVIL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGpQphS4frFJPGvRgjP03mMQC2Cv8kUn5iyarbfSXysM8XHjzzcZaXKYgYT8pDNBLvG2EASLy-BdNV6ZIWsnrZXEpBv3_uJYtey-9UHVaYAKpi0LcTankHCWxhOQEcrBfK30nrAB316c/w200-h150/GNIVIL.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From GNIVIL's website</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There is no doubt that
people can tell stories that are often stranger than fiction. A history-loving
Health and Safety Officer first learnt to foot fight and then turned to metalworking.
He told me all GNIVIL’s clothes were handcrafted and correct for the period. Even
the trumpet he used to announce the melee was a style of horn dating from the
days of the Crusades. Lady Jane led dancing on the lawn during the evening,
explaining why dancing was essential to medieval society. No one would have
suspected her modern-day profession to be that of an electrician.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My article on a United
Kingdom beer festival, including one of my photographs, appeared in the Calgary
Herald (still going strong.) That was a fun gig, in part because I applied for
and received funding from the British Tourist Board. No money changed hands for
the beer as visitors bought a string of tickets at the entrance gate and used
them to buy their beer. Friday night was a fun night with my family. I got to
work interviewing people the following day. I even made it into the local paper
at home that described me as ‘a mystery woman from Canada.’<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So now I’ve related
some of my experiences with writing outside my preferred genre, let’s look at
what my fellow bloggers have to say.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Marci Baun <a href="http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/</span></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Skye Taylor <a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Connie Vines <a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0563c1;">http://mizging.blogspot.com</span></a>/<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dr. Bob Rich <a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2qf" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc;">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2qf</span></a> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Judith Copek <a href="http://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Rhobin L
Courtright <a href="http://www.rhobincourtright.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.rhobincourtright.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> <span lang="EN-CA"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> <span lang="EN-CA"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343519596287643773.post-74984216523503030242021-08-21T00:30:00.001-07:002021-08-21T00:30:00.165-07:00<p><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv1v9n5MVb1c3bvnxfMMeIP1a45dWQrkexPD4pINGnEaALBe5BE-hpvHe7YsSF2_zOaznSigweC2MuksAunil41887XXnoB3MUB5H_OmzhYQU-FqJfehhYQpZ7ptSA9pd4j7krbWuzsM/s375/Round+Robin+logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="375" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv1v9n5MVb1c3bvnxfMMeIP1a45dWQrkexPD4pINGnEaALBe5BE-hpvHe7YsSF2_zOaznSigweC2MuksAunil41887XXnoB3MUB5H_OmzhYQU-FqJfehhYQpZ7ptSA9pd4j7krbWuzsM/w200-h200/Round+Robin+logo.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />Our Round Robin question for August is:<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Do you
have any character habits or favorite words that always crop up in your
writing?</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Oh, boy!
Do they ever. But – that is what first drafts are for. Once I have started
writing I try to keep going. I say try because I am a Virgo and if you know
anything about astrological signs and their characteristics, you’ll know that
Virgos are perfectionists. I like the first sentence, first paragraph, first
chapter, to be perfect – except there is no such thing as perfection.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I learnt
by trial and many, many errors to get on with the story and took Nora Roberts’
advice to keep writing as you can’t edit a blank page. Quite apart from those
niggling fillers like had, was, just, really, very—I could go on but won’t—I
find that with each book I write I have a ‘crutch’ word.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In one of
my books my hero grinned so much I’m not sure that he would ever have
straightened his face out if I hadn’t taken myself in hand and did a painstaking
search to rewrite practically every instance of where I had him grinning. Likewise,
a Regency heroine who was forever sighing. I’ve had my moments with ‘however,’ ‘especially,’
‘nevertheless,’ and many more.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">But this
is where self-editing comes in. Being aware of the nuances of what you’re
writing means you can go over your work and search out those offending words
which are often repetitious. The editing process gives authors a chance to not
only weed out those wretched stumbling blocks, but in that process make their
writing more powerful by re-writing sentences and phrases </span><s style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">for more of an impact</s><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">.
(I struck this out as it means pretty much the same as more powerful and is
therefore redundant.)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Writing a
book is not a solo effort. It may be in the beginning as it is the author’s
idea, characters, plot and so on, and the first revision will include weeding
out the repetitions and redundancies. The next stage will be beta readers who,
if they are doing their job, will point out character or plot holes and often
pick up a ‘crutch’ word the author may not have been aware they were using.
After another round of edits and revisions, then comes the editing stage and
quite likely another round of edits and revisions. It really does take a
village to produce a book.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">And on
that note, I’m going to check on my Round Robin villagers to see what they have
to say. I hope you’ll join me in visiting:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Anne Stenhouse </span><a href="http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com</span></a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Skye Taylor </span><a href="http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Judith
Copek </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://lynx-sis-blogspot.com&source=gmail&ust=1629592061225000&usg=AFQjCNFmtf_W-dWgawSAa1yl-IIK79SeuA" href="https://lynx-sis-blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">https://lynx-sis-blogspot.com</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Connie Vines </span><a href="http://mizging.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0563c1; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">http://mizging.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">/<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Diane Bator </span><a href="http://dbator.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">http://dbator.blogspot.ca/</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Beverley Bateman </span><a href="http://beverleybateman.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">http://beverleybateman.blogspot.ca/</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Dr. Bob Rich </span><a href="https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2ow" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">https://wp.me/p3Xihq-2ow</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Fiona McGier </span><a href="http://www.fionamcgier.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">http://www.fionamcgier.com/</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Helena Fairfax </span><a href="http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-line-height-alt: 10.25pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Rhobin Courtright </span><a href="http://www.rhobincourtright.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">http://www.rhobincourtright.com</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></p>Victoria Chathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02064028734034371341noreply@blogger.com12