Few Will Read This Post (And That's The Point of This Post)

There is a part in the 2019 South Korena drama "Hotel de Luna" that has stuck with me in the six years since I watched the drama with Rebekah during COVID in early 2020.

In fact, I went down a rabbit hole looking for the exact passage online when I recently wrote this blog post and then decided it should be its own separate post.

"Hotel de Luna" is a hotel that caters to ghosts, a place for them to stay on their way to heaven or hell while they address unfinished business.

But the hotel must have one human manager - and young Goo Chang-Sung (for reasons of the plot) is recruited for the job by the owner Man-wol, who is also stuck between heavena and hell and has her own unfinished business.

Man-wol pursues Goo Chang-Sung for a while and gives him the ability to see ghosts, which terrifies him, enough for him to dodge her and the summons for as long as he's able.

My favorite scene in the entire drama is when he's standing in the lobby and wondering why he should stay. And he's told he will see things few will ever see.

And then his lights go on, and he's sees the lavishness of the venue, and the hundreds of souls milling around.

One can find posts galore on the internet about stepping outside of one's comfort zone. And I even added to the noise with this Faith-inspired post.

And it's true the view is often breathtaking outside of that zone.

That brings me to local authors. 

And I am not talking about my BryonySeries books (although we could be). I'm talking about the many self-published novels I've read over the years (and the one I'm currently reading).

The products of local, independent, and/or self-published authors are often dismissed as amateurly-produced slush (at best).

But most of us will admit (even if only to ourselves) that plenty of badly crafted material is commerically published, too.

And yet...

By taking a chance on an unknown book and author, you will see (and read) something few will ever see and read and experience.

True, the road is uncharted.

You won't find thousands of starred reviews, social media reels, and buzz around town to guide you.

Rather, you will step off the noisy crowded reading road onto a quieter, dustier, perhaps lonelier path that leads into,,,where?

Could be a field of weeds and insects, which sends you scuttling back to the familiar, vowing never to pick up any book that isn't influencer-approved ever again.

But you might miss the rare wildflower beckoning you in the breeze.

Or you might embark on a reading adventure the likes of which you've never experienced.

Fortunately, you don't need to look far to find your first out-of-the-ordinary read.

Many libraries (including the Joliet Public Library) have local author sections.

Many independent bookstores (including The Book Market in Crest Hill) have local author sections, 

In fact, The Book Market has one moving set of shelves dedicated to published authors belonging to WriteOn Joliet. Ask owner Janet Staley if you can't find it. She can also help you find just the right book to read, too.

Critical Grind Board Game Cafe in Shorewood is having a local author fair on Saturday.

So, again...

By taking a chance on an unknown book and author, you will see (and read) something few will ever see and read and experience.

Ever.

A Novel Idea for Labor Day

 On August 29, a WriteOn member posted a meme on our WriteOn Joliet Facebook group page the following prompt: post the eighth sentence of page twenty-eight of any book.

And she proceeded to post from this book.

So I posted from this book.

And this WriteOn author posted from this book.

So to celebrate the work of local authors on this Labor Day, I grabbed as many books by local authors that I could find in the moment from my bookshelves and continued the love.

In the case of any page twenty-nines not having an eighth sentence, I included the last sentence on that page.

Maybe it will make you curious enough to click through the link, read the summary, and maybe - just maybe - buy and read the book.

And if not...

At least one sentence from each of these authors will be read.

He made several calls to people who needed to know where he could be reached.

He also handcuffed him by threatening him with the information he had.

She continued walking toward him.

Get back upstairs, you two.

What caused the sudden change?

Such a waste.

They slung their rackets over their shoulders and jumped on their bikes.

They ploy seemingly worked as Mogridge turned in a solid outing over the next 4.2 innings, allowing one earned run and scattering four hits.

With at least one heart destined to lose.

Kneeling close to the bed, he said a few words in a strange tongue, paused a moment, and began to heal the wound by placing his hands upon it.

They laughed.

And I enjoyed both of those activities.

Jim designed and built this large comfortable post and beam addition to accommodate grandchildren, puppies, and the many memory-making family gatherings.

I know you'd rather play basketball, but at least the cheerleaders get to go to all the games.

However at the same time, it cut off the oxygen that the trapped men needed to breathe.

There seemed to be an utter lack of realization of the dangers inherent in the material, which was being manufactured.

I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes.

His narrow shaky hands reached for my belt buckle, but I grabbed them tight before he takes hold,

"That wasn't so hard was it?" Barry asked as he jumped off his bike and leaned it against the side of the building.

"It's OK, Kristen."

Jamilah took her mouth off the woman's body with her lips and part of her face filled with blood this is how you live and survive off the blood of humans," Jamilah said.

If you're sure you don't mind.

"It never leaves."

One day, Mark's aunt was visiting and they were alone in his hospital room.

Just bask in hopeless failure, hell, eternal rest, your pride.

They made my last years at the Guardian Angel Home so much better.

As I drove towards the gate, I commented.

Our final stop, New Salem, had reconstructed log cabin akin to the one in which Lincoln lived as a young adult.

Moose musings!

That year, there was a scarlet fever outbreak.

I will call you Scout.

Getting to know yourself in times of trouble is the first step to obtaining the courage to release that familiar lifestyle.

She wrote a nice article for the bike club newsletter that at the end of the first year she joined, thanking the members for being so supportive and nice to her, and especially for staying with her if she lagged behind on the rides.

For a solution

Their legs no longer hurt from the dampness and their arms and faces were almost flushed from the heat.

"What has happened?" he asked.

Aunt Mildred and Uncle Mortimer will get over the hurt of their names not being carried on through another generation, and your children will love you forever.

"Honey, I have to tell you something."

"We'd been at band practice, so it was late."

I am new to this area, and I don't like driving in this weather.

Approaching the first farm, the area was as he remembered from attending a past feast day.

Each grain landing in the precise spot laid out for it.

When nature talks...I long to hear more.

In this chapter, God was not pleased with Israel.

I started a prayer list with dates and answers, almost like a journal.

Include yourself, your family, and your church family in your prayers.

Childhood Dreams Can Come True

When I was a child, the only Joliet Public Library branch was the downtown branch at 150 N. Ottawa St. was the only library I knew.

I thought all libraries were old marble and limestone buildings with arched windows. And in this wonderful space, I discovered all sorts of wonderful books to read all the way into eighth grade when we moved to New Lenox.

Picture books. Chapter books. Collections of short scary stories. "The Best Plays Of..." yearbooks, which I discovered in seventh grade, where, between those pages, I was introduced to such stage notables as Moss Hart, Marcel Marceau, and Cecil Beaton, and read wonderful scripts (the top ten were featured). 

You know how some authors dream of seeing their books in Barnes and Noble? Well, as a child, I dreamed of seeing my books downtown in the Joliet Public Library.

I knew both branches had some of my BryonySeries books as part of its local author collection, which WriteOn Joliet helped initiate. And I knew where to find those books at the Black Road branch.

But I didn't know where the Ottawa Street branch displayed the local authors...until one night, when Rebekah and I were leaving the library after editing the WriteOn Joliet radio play.

There they were - right in the middle of the lobby, near the main entrance.

Who says childhood dreams can't come true?

How to Read More Books This Year

Maybe it's a by-product of a severely asthmatic childhood, but I read A LOT and so does my sister and my children.

In fact my sister, who also has a master's degree in library science, has an entire room in her home that is only bookshelves (Lucky!).

Some people like reading a lot less. And some people would like to read a lot more.

This article popped up in my news feed today. It has eight great tips for people who want to read more (maybe that's you).

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/8-ways-to-read-a-lot-more-books-this-year?utm_source=pocket-newtab

Here's a ninth suggestion: Browse your public library and local bookstore.

And since my WriteOn Joliet co-leader Tom Hernandez says I'm terrible at self-promotion, here's a tenth: Come out to The Book Market this Saturday (Jan. 25) between 3 and 5 p.m.

I'll be there with a collection of the books in the BryonySeries, which has titles for all ages and even a cookbook (which benefits Big Brothers Big Sisters of Will and Grundy Counties).

If you've never been inside The Book Market, you should. The space is filled with reasonably priced used books for every age and on every topic imaginable.

The staff is knowledgeable and friendly. And if you don't know what to buy a reader, gift cards are available, too.

If you're looking for a rare or out-of-print book, stop here first before scouring online.

The Book Market is located at 23675 Plainfield Road in Crest Hill. 

Happy reading! :)

Illustration by Kathleen Rose Van Pelt for "Bryony."

Six Months of Reading Only Local Authors

When Before the Blood went into editing last year, I decided to spend 2019 reading only books written and published by local authors.

Six months into the process, a very enjoyable process, I'm rediscovering the joy of discovering new books and enjoying them.

Publishing, like other industries, undergoes its own trends. By reading only locally produced, self-published books, I'm bypassing those, and its making a richer reading experience.

When I was a child and stayed inside the house due to asthma, I read. When I ran out of books of my own to read, I turned to the books of my mother's childhood, which sat on a shelf.

These books, although some where mass-produced by the Stratemeyer Syndicate, didn't have flashy covers or hyped-up back text.

They had a title, a name, and perhaps a frontispiece. The only way to discover these books was to read them. And I did, flipping through the pages, reading snippets as one samples appetizers, and finally heading to the first chapter to savor the entire book.

Liken it to the difference between seeing a blockbuster movie versus an independently produced film, where a discussion with the director and actors follow the viewing.

So although the books I'm reading now do have back cover copy, and some do come with enthusiastic promotion on social media, the carefully-crafted, targeted campaign is, thankfully, missing, and I'm able to relish each book for its own merit.

The covers give me an idea of the words between the pages before plunging into the poems or stories, but other than that, the rest is a quiet adventure of setting aside the hats that say "writer" and "editor" to burrow into someone else's world for awhile, a world I had zero hand in creating.

Do I enjoy each book equally? No, of course not. But each book is read for its own entertainment or informative or inspirational merits.

Not because it's famous. Or well-reviewed. Or because I know the author.

But because each reading is a delicious adventure. And, perhaps, because I know the author has, in most cases, overseen each step of the book production and wrote it because he/she had to tell that story, or write that poem, or deliver that message.

There's love and passion and hard work in the process. And a desire on the part of the author to share all of that with those who will pick up that book.

For a reader like me, it's pure delight.

Illustration by Kathleen Rose Van Pelt for "Bryony."

"Middle School Reading Lists 100 Years Ago vs. Today:" A Response

Last week on Facebook, I posted a link to a 2016 article called "Middle School Reading Lists 100 Years Ago vs. Today."

Here is the link: bit.ly/30PU5Br.

Although some of the Facebook comments supported classic reading material, most felt classic was boring or irrelevant and felt modern works were best for modern young readers,

Back in our homeschooling days (I'm talking about me and my six children), we read a large variety of material.

In fact, although reading was my main occupation as a child, those two and a half decades of homeschooling were incredibly rich for me, too, in terms of reading material, in volume, variety, and enjoyment, so much that I'll never experience anything like it again.

Although we read nothing on List Two of the 2016 article, we did read Evangeline by Henry Wadsworth Longellow and we did read Treasure Island by Robert Lewis Stevenson.

And although we did not read the rest of the exact selections cited on List One, we did read other works by Rudyard Kipling, Washington Irving, Charles Dickens, Edgar Allan Poe, and Nathaniel Hawthorne.

On the other hand, we had a unique approach to reading these works, which would be hard to replicate in a classroom. And all six adult kids still love reading today.

Here's what we did.

1) We steeped our lives in reading.

By the time a baby showed interest in a board book, we spent about an hour a day in reading, although not all at once, perhaps fifteen minutes scattered throughout the day. Until the child could read, I did the reading. And we always read at bedtime.

We also read at meals. The kids brought books to the breakfast table. During lunch, I would read a chapter at a time from a book we normally would not read on our own. This is how we got through titles such as Treasure Island (twice, in fact), The Wind in the Willows, Mrs. Mike, and The Mysterious Island (to name a few). One chapter and no more. This gave us time for discussion and to anticipate the next day's chapter. The kids also got to hear how reading should "sound."

For the record, we never finished Pride and Prejudice, although we did try really hard. But the writing made us squirm in irritation until we finally dumped the book and moved on.

We also couldn't "get into" Tom Sawyer. But that was just us.

During dinner, we had several books at the table: Bibles, church history, lives of the saints, a bit of catechism. We read and talked together (in ways many would find irreverent, but kids process things differently than adults, and I gave them the freedom to do so), and dinner could last a couple hours.

All this reading was over and above the "fun" reading, and reading that was part of our curriculum.

One th flip side, the kids were also terrible at remembering where they set library books (or where a sibling who swiped the books to read, too, had placed them) and returning books on time. Their library fines could be staggerings.

Side note: the kids paid their own fines, especially once we lived in Channahon, and the library was a couple blocks away. The only time they did not was if the book was borrowed from a library a distance from the house, and I was did not drive them there before the book was due.

2) We read a variety of literature - and we were free not to like it.

We're grateful to Abeka for their outstanding selections, for they assembled many happy hours of reading in their "readers" (which went through twelfth grade), along with stories the kids still pick up to re-read.

Although we did not like every selection, we did read them all, and we did not have to like them. I remember Markheim by Robert Lewis Stevenson being a dreadful read until I read it for the last time. Somewhere in the six reads (once with each child), I'd developed a grudging appreciation for it.

I approached many selections with "I'm sure I won't like this," only to find I did like it. I had never read Sherlock Holmes and was fairly certain the stories would be dull (they weren't). We read folk tales, and poetry, and many of the books also included a huge variety of art (one illustration of a hare is truly creepy).

I think what gave my kids an open-minded approach to the stories is that we read them together. I never handed them an intimidating book and said, "Go read it," while I did something else.

We sat together at the table, or lay across the living room carpet, and we read together, usually just for fifteen minutes at a time, four days a week. We read each paragraph aloud, in alternating paragraphs, which meant sometimes one person would get a line, and the next might get a paragraph that stretched for half a page.

We shared thoughts as we read. If the entire selection didn't resonate with us, we commiserated together. But we also laughed (and sometimes cried) together, or we marveled at certain elements of the characters and story lines. Sometimes one person loved the selection, and the other couldn't wait for it to be done.

Rebekah and I still reference one story, and neither can remember the name, that was so bad, we kept waiting for the author to pull the "Aha!" and make it better. But that never happened. It was horrible, all the way to the end.

We also, usually, skipped the boring questions at the end of the reading.

Along the way, we gained a knowledge and appreciation of an enormous variety of writing styles and subject matter, along with learning about the people who wrote the selections and (perhaps very important for today), the place in time and culture in which they were written, which gave us an extremely wide perspective and provoked many open conversations.

3) Most of the modern stuff was read on our own time.

So, yeah, we didn't lock ourselves in this quaint little alternate world. Both my mother and sister worked as booksellers for many years (the first at Barnes and Noble, the second at Borders) and always gifted my kids with lots of books on birthdays and Christmas.

My mother used her discount to let the kids pick out what they liked ($50 worth for the younger kids, $100 for the older ones). My sister just came with books, sometimes bags of them. Often, she brought titles she had enjoyed (that's how we read Mrs Mike and Fahrenheit 451), with one of them being The Giver (my kids loved it, I loathed it).

My kids introduced me to Foxtrot and Goosebumps; I introduced them to Doonesbury, Tales from the Far Side, and Peanuts.

The read volumes of books with titles I'll never know. I have only read the first Harry Potter and found it to be OK. I tried the second one twice and could  not make it past the second chapter (The kids have offered to summarize it for me so I can read the rest. Maybe someday).

I have never read Pendragon (yet).

We have memories and inside jokes and taglines that will last forever.

BTW, Daniel recently came home with a DVD of the last Peanuts movie. We all watched it (and loved it together).

Illustration by Kathleen Rose Van Pelt for "Bryony."

Last Saturday at The Book Market

One of the questions I often ask fellow indie authors is how much they sold at a particular event.

It's less about being snoopy and more to assess our overall expectations, marketing efforts, and areas of improvement.

I had very little idea how most of this worked when I began publishing eight years ago, and many of the rules have changed since that time.

I'm certain every artist hopes, deep down, that they'll knock sales and customer response out of the park.

Last night on Twitter, I saw in my feed a rather "lean and blunt" company that has one purpose: to pay writers $200 to $2,000 for all the rights to manuscripts (in certain genres) they can't sell. I'm not certain how legitimate this company is, but I'm sure it gets plenty of inquiries. And I was curious enough to briefly consider writing slush in those genres and pitching it.

The struggle to sell art is nothing new. Now that I can look up this knowledge online, I've found a number of my favorite authors (literature that's now considered classic, authors now deceased who were favorites in my childhood) either didn't sell in their lifetime or worked hard at it during their lifetime, with some books selling better than others.

Even Eoin Colfer, the author of Artemis Fowl, when I interviewed him a few months ago for The Herald-News, had this to say, "I've written over 40 books. Sometimes you have success with that and sometimes you don't."

I'm not gong to stretch this post out like social media click bait, But I did want to give Saturday some context and provide some information that might be useful to other indies like me.

I sold just over $75 worth of books and just under $50 worth of candles in three hours. For a small event at a small venue on a sunny Saturday afternoon, I feel I sold surprisingly well.

Most of the people who bought are people I know in some way, and those people came to The Book Market on purpose to buy one or more books and/or some candles (my candlemaker has lung cancer, and our goal is to sell the entire stock).

But I did receive some interest from people who stopped by the table, and one never knows where that will go.

I'm not certain how other authors might rate the outcome, but I consider the day a success (despite the photo of my kids playing on their phones) and here's why.

1) I am gradually reducing the candle volume, bringing me closer to the goal. And I actually sold far more candles that I thought I would, so that was an unexpected bonus.

2) The people who bought books on purpose, since they bought on purpose, may actually read them. If they enjoy them, they may recommend them, to a friend, which furthers the reach. If they don't, that's OK, too, It's part of effort of finding the readership. And their support, with their time and their money, is worth far more to me than words can fully express.

3) Some of the books were gifts. See number two.

4) Just hosting the event brought about awareness through flyers, news releases, and a little media exposure, for me and the store.

5) The Book Market made a percentage from the sales of my books. Not enough to close up shop and retire, but hey, sales are sales.

6) The owner always seem happy to see me and didn't seem happier to see me go. ;)

As authors and artists, we struggle to find our foothold, and sometimes we don't find it at all. But somewhere between obscurity and world renown are places we can set realistic goals and then take small doable steps to attain them.

Last Saturday, I felt, hit the right spots.

You Really Can't Go Home Again

Well, yeah, physically, you can.

But when we've moved past, and grown from, certain experiences, we can't return to the old perspective and enjoy them the same way.

The other night, I picked up a novel I had enjoyed in childhood, one I had wanted to re-read for a long time, and settled into bed with it. The title is unimportant, but it's a favorite novel, one that inspired me to write the type of fiction I write, and one that inspired me to write, period.

This book goes so far back into my childhood enjoyment that I remember my sister and I playing Miss America with our babysitter. When the babysitter asked me who I most wanted to meet in the entire world, I gave this author's name.

And yet the other night, I closed the book at page three and put it away.

Had I stuck with it, I'm fairly certain the story, and the way this author told it, would have wrapped me in its magic. That wasn't the problem.

The problem was, right there on page one, in this beautifully hard-bound traditionally published book with stunning pen and ink illustrations, was a typo.

Yes, a typo, On page one.

I took a breath, kept reading, and turned to page two.

And there was another.

And another.

I was done.

Now I'm not being judgmental. It's not the typos that bothered me, or rather, it's not the fact the book had typos that bothered me.

As a self-published author, I can't tell you the number of times I've read about the advantages of traditional publishing, with pristine editing being one of them.

As a self-published author. I struggle (and fail) to produce copy completely error-free. In fact, I told my editor for Before the Blood," I can live with a few typos (because, you know, I'm self-published)."

But the reason why I hired this particular editor was less about the catching typos (although she does) and more about catching plot holes, inconsistencies in characterizations, etc. The major types of stuff that ruin a story.

Since I'm not a huge publishing house with an elaborate staff of talented editors, I have to pick and choose my priorities.

I'll take a flawless story and characters that leap off the page over a few typos.

So why did I put the book away?

Not because the book has changed. But because I have changed.

I am no longer a child reaching for that book to get wrapped up in its wonder.

I am now an adult that creates some of that wonder for others.

But I am now also a self-published author who can move past the hand-wringing worry about publishing a perfect book.

Such a book doesn't exist. It didn't exist in the 1960s. And it doesn't exist today.

Yes, of course, I will write and edit as clean a story as possible and ruthlessly seek and weed out every mistake, every lesser word.

Too many word weeds will overtake a great story and choke it.

But a few? Depends on the reader and his or her tolerance for typos.

Apparently mine is a bit higher than most (I was good at grammar as a child).

Maybe in a month or so, I'll reach for the book again. I'm guessing I'll enjoy it on several levels.

With better understanding of how good books come to be.

With a probable chance I'll be analyzing its sentence structures...and marveling.

With gratitude to the author who has long since past on...

And with a bit of my nine-year-old self reading along with me and simply enjoying the journey.

Boring on Social Media, Not Boring to Me

Ove five years ago, when the small press that is no longer in business first accepted Bryony, and around the time the first edits came back in the mail, I turned my attention to marketing, because everything I read said marketing begins long before a book's release.

One of the strong recommendations was an author blog. Up until this point, I had no interest in blogging. Writing features is far more appealing, and my return to a childhood love of writing fiction was also appealing. Both took plenty of time, and, besides, I couldn't drum up anything I thought readers might want to read.

I shared that conundrum with Sarah, an avid reader, and asked what would appeal to her.

"Write about topics related to the book," Sarah had said. "Write about how you got the ideas. Write about what's happening in your life."

I insisted I wanted the blog to be entertaining and posts to be relatively short, something people could quickly read and go back to their day, not another leech on their time. Sarah insisted it would be.

So I did,  and still do, post about topics that have a connection to the BryonySeries. I repost interesting items from other writers. I share writing tips I have learned along the way. I repost the features I have written during the week, as well as the features other freelancers writer for me, now that I am an editor as well as a writer. I post recipes from Memories in the Kitchen: Bites and Nibbles from "Bryony," which is a fundraiser for Big Brothers Big Sisters of Will and Grundy Counties.

However, I stumble when it comes to posting about "what's happening in my life," and it less little to do with my shrinking away from self-promotion.

There is nothing happening that makes for good blogging. It's lean, routine, a bit monastic, and well-suited to me, but it's not the type of life that will send people flocking to a blog. Seriously, I can sum it up in a few sentences.

Mornings, seven days a week: I take a 24-hour Allegra (chronic hives), eat a banana (I'm hypoglycemic and bananas have no citric acid to block the Allegra), feed the cats, heat the coffee, post a Bible verse on Facebook because I'm a writer AND a Christian, so I want the first words I write each day to not be mine. I greet my "vampire fans" on my Facebook page (www.facebook.com/BryonySeries, there's my bit of self-promotion) and then set my posts and blog for the day, and check my email, all while waking up with a cup of coffee (and petting a cat, if one wanders in).

Oh, and BTW, I get up to an alarm at 4 a.m. on work days and whenever on weekends (although my idea of "sleeping in" is getting up a lot earlier than many people do on workdays).

I eat the same breakfast seven days a week and power walk before work, five days a week. I get ready for work, pack food, check email, and pray for family, friends, church members, and co-workers while walking to work because I don't own a car.

My day is focused on writing about the cool stuff other people do: cover stories, features briefs, and calendar items. I do not take a lunch break, but eat out of my lunch box all day long. Because I do not take an official lunch, if a family item arises, I address it. I have eaten out twice in the fifteen months I have worked for the newspaper - once with my former publicist and once with co-workers, not because I'm anti-social, more because the work so aborbs me, and I'd rather take that time and talk to one of my kids, should someone call.

I walk home, praying for the souls of people that have died (see above list). I may unwind with some music while reading over some of my notes for Before the Blood and then do yoga (three nights a week) or lift weights (three nights a week). Shower, count out the next day's medicine, and to bed with a book follows that.

Two nights a month I co-lead a writer's group. One Sunday afternoon a month, I teach a by-invitation-only fiction class for a donation to Big Brothers Big Sisters of Will and Grundy Counties, and the donation is the only reason why I have been persuaded to teach the class. Sunday I attend a little dying church of senior citizens, and the church is forty miles away. Friday nights is TV night with Daniel, and I watch the shows he has handpicked for me (because I scorn most TV). Repeat on Sunday nights with Rebekah, except we follow Once Upon A Time (which has gotten boring, the show, not Rebekah).

I spend Saturdays writing fiction, and I jealously guard that time because I enjoy it so much. Every four weekends, I am in charge of social media and breaking news for two newspapers, which cuts into my fiction time, LOL!

Any leftover time is reserved for my family and a few close friends. I don't go to the bar, read the latest books, or see the latest movies, although I might do the latter if it's an opportunity to connect with family or close friends.

This is my life. I love it.

And as you're working one last yawn in, I have to get ready for my walk.

Ed Calkins on VampFest

Ed Calkins, the Steward of Tara, made an appearance--in a kilt--last night at VampFest, and it was fortunate for all that he was there.

Several times during the evening, whenever "Bryony" was mentioned, Ed was at hand to quickly interject how the story is really about him, although that fact may not be completely obvious at first glance.

"I'm not sure even the author is aware of it," Ed said.

Ed graciously posed for several photographs before the pictorial backdrop of a window inside Simons Mansion overlooking the vast estate. Although he originally planned to distribute limericks and samples of his "Bryony" game, Ed apolgized for having neither.

"I keep modifying the game," Ed said. "I'm having a hard time finishing it."

He thoroughly enjoyed the food, mingling with the guests, and swaying to the music, although none of the entertainment was Irish-themed. The Steward did, however, express great displeasure at yet another delay in "Bryony's" road to publication, since he had hoped to sign many copies that night.

"I'm telling you, the IVA is very displeased," Ed said.

I assured Ed we were doing everything humanly and subhumanly possible to get "Bryony" into readers' hands as quickly as possible. I certainly would never wish to raise the ire of the Irish Vampire Association.

On The Receiving End...Again

The August 28th entry of an author friend's blog (www.jenamorrow.blogspot.com), "Receiving Graciously 101," hit home stronger with me than anything I've recently read.

Many of us have grown up learning, "Tis Better To Give Than To Receive," and while we, in certain occasions, grumble a bit when giving is called of us (especially when it's related to a person we dislike, a distasteful task, or inconvenient timing), we are still more comfortable doing the giving than the receiving.

It's funny how God shakes that up.

Decades ago, when my oldest children were young, we were poor, "barely making the rent and relying on people sending food boxes," poor. Now I had grown up in an upper middle class home, so the concept of buying garage sales clothes or creating forty different dishes from condensed tomato soup because someone gave you a case of the stuff was foreign to me.

I remember choking down huge amounts of pride with my white bread and powdered milk until the day arrived when four items on my shopping list were packed neatly inside a box of anonymous food donations: a jar of Hellman's mayonnnaise and three child-sized Oral B toothbrushes. Only God knew I needed them, a stark reminder of who really was caring for us.

Then, a dozen years ago, ironically as a single parent, finances looked up. For the first time in my child-rearing years, I was paying all my bills on time. I had money in the bank, was remodeling my house, and didn't freak out every time a child got sick or needed a pair of shoes.

That trend continued after I married my second husband. We worked long, hard hours, but the money we made well compensated for it, enough that we invested quite a bit into our church and founding, running, and funding its youth programs.

Once the recession hit, the budget grew ugly. I thought, "I have lived through lean times. I can do this." And I cut and cut and cut until I had no place left to cut. So, instead of worrying over what I could not control, I tapped into my imagination and wrote a story that had lurked there for over twenty years, "Bryony."

A year ago, my husband lost his job and with it our health insurance. He called to tell just as I was callling him to say I was being admitted into the hospital for a yet undiagnosed disorder.

So, it's been a tough year, but for every challenge, problem, concern, crisis, emergency, we've had an unexpected blessing running parallel to it: prayers, gifts of motivational books AND chocolate, a former pastor sending monetary gifts by mail and our current pastor bring weekly bags of groceries, and new friend also going through a crisis sending a surprise gift at just the right time.

Once again pride stepped in and made the acceptance of that love hard. I shared my difficulty with my pastor, a former salesman that, when he gives a contrived compliment, I in return retort, "I don't need an insurance policy," but he is also a God-fearing man and a friend for more than thirty years. He only quietly said, "Maybe you have inspired some people along the way."

Because of the recession I wrote "Bryony," and because of "Bryony," I've learned more about writing than I ever could have gained otherwise, which sent additional paying gigs knocking at my virtual door. I've also met some kind-hearted, generous individuals that have been equally excited about the project, some of whom I know call friends.

Recently, someone volunteered some additional marketing services and a second person offered to professionally format my manuscripts, all free of charge. With the first, I'm swapping some editing for his book, but the second insists that she doesn't want to trade services; she just wants to something nice for me.

I've asked them both why they reached out to me in this fashion and both said, "Because God told me to do it." So how can I object to that?

"And this same God who takes care of me will supply all your needs from his glorious riches, which have been given to us in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:19

"Wigtraption" is now a word

 Or so says my publicist DulcineaHawksworth who, armed with photos, has been shopping 'round for the appropriate long locks to transform an ordinary twenty-first century mortal into the nineteenth century immortal John Simons, for book trailer purposes of course.

Yesterday, Dulcinea met me at the P. Seth Magosky Museum of Victorian Life in Joliet and helped me piece together men's period clothing for James Onohan and "John Simons" for Wednesday's shooting of the Bryony music video and trailers.

Dulcinea is full of modification tips and hopes to attend the filming where, with "pins and needles" she can give my pseudo-vampires the right late 1890s look. I sure hope she can make it, because I don't have her "nip and tuck" talent. I can tell if an outfit's right only after assembly.

Joining us were two of my sons, Christopher and Daniel, who received their first tour of the museum, including the awesome view of Joliet from the top floor. Daniel, who fancies himself the reincarnation of Henry Matthews, my dandy vampire, finally had his chance to don some real Victorian clothes.

Pictures to follow from Bryony's web administrator Sarah Stegall, as the author is technologically disadvantaged and hasn't learned (yet) how to do it.

I wouldn't say Daniel's garb is quite as impressive as past Bryony blog guest Sir Frederick Chook (http://www.frillyshirt.org/salon/portraits-of-the-editor/), but I must say he cuts quite the dashing figure. He may just be Henry yet.

As I write this blog, I'm reading a post from my dressmaker regarding my walking suits. One has red shimmer fabric; the other, blue. She has modified the pattern to make them appear "vampire-y" (whatever that means; can't wait to find out), and is currently ruffling twenty yards of satin.

Oh yeah, I'm as excited as Melissa approaching Halloween night!

Assorted News from Munsonville

The Bryony team is busy! Here's what we've been doing:

* The author is working hard on her editorial notes and even pulled at twenty-four plus day last week before calling it a night (morning?). She hopes to finish by the end of the month, so more long days are ahead.

* The filming of the official Bryony book trailer and music video is scheduled for next week. In the meantime, we are feverishly seeking two men's Victorian suits.

* There is a possibility of a second music video in an historic theatre.

* James Onohan (Bryony's pianist/composer) has written several songs for the 10-song CD, The Best-Loved Compositions of John Simons (http://www.jamesonohan.com/).

* The author will be re-recording the audio documentary on vampires, hopefully this weekend.

* The Big Brothers Big Sisters Bowl for Kids' Sake statistics are posted. The two Bryony teams--Just Steve and Stake and Blade--beat their $1000 goal by $105!

* We may have a sponsor for the Bryony cookbook.

* Almost 2000 Bryony business cards have been dispersed. They are FREE. To get yours, contact BryonySeries@gmail.com, and we will send some to you.

Concepts in...um...uh...Communication

That was the name of my first Mass Communications class eons ago at the University of St. Francis in Joliet. I dreaded speeches and showed it by peppering them with the equally dreadful ums and uhs.

Decades of living behind a computer screen and controlling the interrogations haven't improved my fault either. It just doesn't show when I'm the one asking the questions.

Today, a USF student interviewed me about Bryony for a ten-minute audio documentary (Mass Comm class project) on vampires. Her questions were thorough and well-thought out. Neither were they too hard for me, but I definitely speak better with a keyboard than my mouth, especially when someone is holding a tape recorder before it.

The student, however, seemed pleased. The author is cringing because the young woman's professor is my former speech teacher. Thirty years is a long time, so it's a fair bet he doesn't remember me, which is good.

No matter how old you are (and I am old), there's always a part inside that wants to shout, "I'm better now!"

eHow Limerick Lesson Applied

Comedian, actor, and Bryony fan Tommy Connolly (http://tommyconnolly.blogspot.com/), studied yesterday's post, discarded his standard limerick opening line of, "There once was a man from Nantucket...," and penned quite the limerick in honor of Bryony's author.

There once was a writer, Denise,
Who wrote with a faith-driven ease
She delivered a message
Of hope not opression,
And our father in heaven is pleased.

Of course, Ed Calkins, the Steward of Tara, would disapprove, since he believes limericks should insult, not praise, but Bryony's author, feeling thoroughly humbled, graciously accepts it, and will try to live up to it, for today, at least.

Happy Sunday, everyone!

I Think It's Time to Go Shopping

Oh, did I say that out loud?

Right now, I am in the midst of a big project, deadline looming. Because I'm a seasoned writer, I know the importance of taking the occasional break, if only to clear the mind. (Don't give me too much credit; newly acquired knowledge).

So, I run down the ladder for more coffee and to get dressed. Now, in the wintertime especially, we paper carriers dress for comfort and warmth. This means, it doesn't really matter if clothes are worn in spots or contain a few holes, since the various layers, strategically placed, cover those parts. It just means I can't wear any long underwear with blown-out knees with a pair of jeans in similar shape.

This morning, however, the only jeans I'm finding are in pretty sorry condition, so I need a decent set of long underwear to go with them. Unfortunately, it's a fairly heavy-duty pair, which means it's a real struggle to get my jeans over them. As I'm tugging the legs of those underwear past the holes in my jeans, I decide it's time to buy some new clothes.

The cheering you hear in the background is my family.

Besides, my publicist keeps reminding me that, with Bryony being released this year, I, as author, am commodity, too, and not just an eccentric homeschooling mother who freelances in her attic office, so she is insisting I dress the part. You know you're overdue for a trip to the mall when your mother rejoices at the fact you finally need bifocals. That, of course, meant I had to get rid of the crummy glasses I've been wearing for years because I'm too cheap to buy more. My mother's crossing her fingers that my long, straight hair goes next.

Sorry, mom. I'll admit, a new wardrobe MIGHT be in order, if only to go with all those cool hats I own. The hair, however, is sacred. It stays. Anyway if I'm going to dress Victorian, I'll need something to put up. Artificial tresses are just not in the budget.

The Best Publishing Fit for Bryony

In the beginning, I did query several agents regarding Bryony, but after receiving my first batch of rejections, I read and thought some more about my options and goals for the novel and pulled back from the query process.

While many new authors do find agent representation quite early, I learned an average of eleven years and several novels pass before some writers attain it. Although freelance writing is a business for me, I wasn't trying to launch a commercial fiction writing career. In short, at nearly fifty, I had no desire to wait eleven years only to see another novel in print while Bryony languished inside my computer.

I had simply written a story I found entertaining and felt others might enjoy it, too. I also wanted to create an illustrated book format for Bryony and to present the story in its best shape. If possible, I wanted the editing process to have a friendly, collaborative feel, similiar to my other writing experiences.

So, I queried several new, small presses and received a request for Bryony's first four chapters. Then, I learned about WriteLife LLC. So when the press with the four chapters fell behind in production, I queried WriteLife LLC. I'm glad I did.

In the past year, Bryony has undergone three rounds of editing. I have been pleased with each result. A week ago, the publisher emailed me and said when my editor is finished reviewing my changes, she will have a better idea where Bryony fits into the company's publishing schedule.

For Bryony, so far, WriteLife has been a good option. The story has received a thorough editing, yet my story and characters are intact. My husband can't understand why I won't save the previous drafts. Yes, I will keep my editorial notes for future reference, but for me, there is only one authentic draft, and that is the published one.