How Bad Can It Get?

I realize summer isn't the greatest time to look for something to watch on television. Sure you might be able to catch an episode you missed of your favorite show. (I always manage to catch the ones I've already seen).

The last few years, many summer reruns have been replaced by short season shows that don't make the fall schedule. And some of those shows have run successfully for a few seasons, like The Closer which went off the air when Kyra Sedgewick decided it was time to move on. Her show was  replaced by its spinoff, Major Crimes (which IMHO is just as good). There are other good shows that have short seasons you wish they were longer. But that isn't my point here.

My point is made-for-TV movies. Last night there wasn't much worth watching so  TV viewing was switched over to the SyFy channel. Sharknado??? Okay, something in the line of disaster movies I hadn't yet seen. I'm usually willing to give a new title a shot.

Somebody should have shot it. Actually they did. The heroine was able to blow the heads off a couple of the big guys. (They were man eaters so what did she have to worry about <snicker>) These huge fish are transported throughout Los Angeles by means of a tornado? (Come on guys, hop on board. There's a huge buffet just waiting for us in LA).  In the meantime they're swimming around pools, sewer systems and flooded streets waiting for the next hapless snack.

I don't mind an occasional dumb movie but this one was the dumbest I have ever seen. Is there anything Hollywood hasn't yet done with sharks, crocs, piranhas and snakes? Either they need some new writers or they need writers who can come up with something that's a bit more thought provoking. Viewers (at least this viewer) wants to be entertained and occasionally challenged (with a good action, suspense or thriller) A good science-fiction would be nice, as long as it makes some sense and lets you ask "What if?"

For some years there's been a problem referred to as 'dumbing down America' in which the reading levels have been lowered and the challenge of reading is disappearing. It seems like the quality of many movies is following the same road. They really don't give us anything to think about. Watch it and forget it. If that's how it is, why bother?

Is there something to be done about it? I have no idea since there are so few complaints. In the meantime, I'll just go back to reading my suspense novels and watching "classic" movies.

Where'd The Time Go???

Hard to believe that half the year is gone. It seems as if only yesterday I was setting goals for the year. Now that I look back at the last six months I find  I'm far from a half-way point in getting done what I set out to do.

I know you have to make allowances for things to happen. That's how life is. In some cases I like to invoke Murphy's Law. You know the one that states if something can go wrong, you can count on it happening. Well, that's the gist of it, anyway. Murphy seems to enjoy taking his vacation time here but I think he's long past due to get the boot. If only he would stop being elusive long enough to allow me to do the deed. Then maybe something would get finished around here. I'd rather be yelled at by unhappy characters than have to deal with unwanted shenanigans or unhappy events.

Summer is the season when I get the least done.  I'd rather have dry heat than live with humidity. This is the time when I feel as if my brain has gone to mush...or water-logged. Every day that passes is a day closer to more comfortable weather and productive time. I can't say I don't get anything done, because I do accomplish some things. When I can't sleep because of the muggies I sometimes pull out a craft project and work on it for a while. (I've got a half dozen lap afghans done). Come autumn I expect to be starting a new project -- a quilt for a wedding gift.

In the meantime, I let those pesky characters have their say, hoping they'll come up with something interesting. I've been waiting ten years for one in particular to speak up and he's finally decided to open his mouth. Slowly, but surely he's voicing his frustration over his situation, or rather, the lack of action on the part of others. (Who knows? Maybe Murphy has been harassing him as well) I suppose the lack of verbalizing from the others means they're about as mushed brain as I am.

At least I have another six months to put together their hopes, dreams and frustrations. Who knows... maybe by the end of the year I'll have at least caught up on my goals. And if there is any justice, Murphy will be gone and leave us in peace.
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Here's a sneak peek to "Lady of My Heart".  It follows "To Every Love There Is a Season."

Since I cannot have one daughter, I will take the other. To come after us will guarantee her death.

The words kept going round and round in the stable boy's head, like a cart whell on a rutted road -- hard and pitiless. Geoffrey tried to push them out of his mind, push away the anger that accompanied them. There was no question as to who had abducted the duke's younger daughter. The problem was no one could find them. That  fact alone rekindled Geoffrey's temper. Why had no one heard the least bit of gossip? Why could no one find even a single hint of where Lady Katherine might have been or where she might be going? After all, Nicholas would never consider traveling without a dozen soldiers for protection. He could defend himself, inadequately, but nothing more. And to keep Kitty from trying to escape from him? No, Nicholas would depend on others to do what he should be able to do himself.

Or would he?

 

Here, There Be Dragons

Actually, that should be dragon, singular and there is one here. It still has a mind of its own.

Some months ago, there was a thread going on about the pros and cons of using a speech program to get some writing done. I already had the tenth edition but hadn't made sufficient use of it to be able to judge how well it worked. Then one day I put it aside and forgot about it... until recently.

Sometimes I wondered  why I upgraded it to Version 11. Granted, there was a special offer and I told myself I should put it to work. Of course, I didn't listen to me. I seldom do.

Earlier this week I brought it out again, determined to get the hang of the program and make good use of it. The hype says your word productivity will increase, and that it has. What I got done, so far, in a couple hours, is what usually takes me all afternoon to accomplish. I still have plenty of time to work on another file.

While I'm dictating to the little critter I find words popping onto the screen that have nothing whatsoever to do with the story and sound nothing like what I said. (try not to breathe into the mic. it may very well show up on the screen as a string of "him"s.) A fun lesson is teaching the dragon to clean up after itself. Unwanted words can be a mess. Then there's the "Please say that again" that appears on the screen in a little box. It makes me wonder if the little beast is hard of hearing because when it asks that, I haven't said anything.  Maybe it hasn't yet learned patience.

And maybe it's a matter of both of us needing to be trained to work together. You know how that goes... The ad may say you can train it to recognize your voice, but like a real pet, it has a mind of its  own. It's going to insist on doing its own thing and get you to follow. That's okay. I've always imagined having a pet dragon.

Break time has been more than sufficient for a snack and drink so I should get back to teaching little Drago a new trick. And, by the way... if you should just happen to see any scorch marks, you'll know the lesson hasn't gone very well.

Are We Sending Bad Messages?

A few days ago Disney announced they had changed the appearance of their latest female character, Merida, and showed a side-by-side makeover.

Now, when they first introduced this gal in the animated movie, Brave, she was feisty, not willing to settle into a typical female role. Her attitude was "someday, but not now." You have to admire the gal for wanting to find her own path at least for a while. She didn't feel the need for a Prince Charming in her life.

The controversy over the change is a valid one. The 'new' Merida is older, more mature, and appears sexy and sophisticated. Is this the kind of message we want to give our daughters...that sexy and sophisticated are the only things worth pursuing? It takes away from the individual and denies girls the right to be themselves.  (It doesn't mean boys aren't faced with similar challenges.) This kind of 'indoctrination' begins in early childhood.

Toddlers and tiaras? The first five years is when kids should be learning to play and get along with others their age, making friends. Instead, they're being taught to compete. Is this what we want for our kids? Our grandkids? The first five years of a child's life is when their personality is set. By the time they begin school, there's little if anything, to be done about the person they've become.

The first five years are the most important when it comes to kids beginning to discover who they are. We should be nurturing that process, encouraging their interests and ensuring they don't move onto a false turn or wrong path.  There's a big difference between nurturing and molding, and sometimes, as a parent, it's hard to know the difference.  We try to mold them with values so they can grow up to be good people. But we also want to encourage some individuality. We're not cut with cookie cutters. Neither should our kids be expected to fit certain molds.

There isn't much we can do about perceptions of the world in general. We can only deal with our small personal worlds and the little ones who populate it. When my boys were small I often heard, "I can't wait till I grow up." My response to them? "Don't be in a hurry. Enjoy being a kid as long as you can because once you grow up, you're a grownup for the rest of your life."

 

As to Merida, granted she's an animated character but even she can wield a great deal of influence on our young. I like the first message she sends: Be yourself. Explore your interests and discover who you are and what you're good at. Responsibility will come soon enough.


Get lost in the mists of time.

 

Getting Past the Wall

Sooner or later every author hits that proverbial wall and gets stuck with their writing. Lately, I've been stuck on a plot and nothing seems to work to get it moving again. The solution? Find something to do that is far from writing so you can go back to it with a fresh look.

I've been workin on a baby afghan and finally got it finished up with another project in mind. There's a new pattern (new to me at least, but the technique isn't new) I've been dying to try out. So last night I got out a pair of knitting needles and a skein of yarn that was only good for practicing on, and I set to work.

(My fictional hero is giving me the silent treatment.)

One thing I don't like about knitting in rows is having to turn the work every time you get to the end of the row. It's especially a pain if you're working with more than one skein because every time you turn the work, the yarns get twisted. I'd heard about a way to purl stitches so you don't have to keep turning your work. It was frustrating at first since I couldn't follow the video (it was on my laptop) and I finally gave up on it. I put the work aside and picked up the book I've been reading. Suddenly I had one of those 'aha' moments and went back to the knitting. The purl stitches were so easy I wondered how I could have been so dim-witted and unable to figure it out earlier. But figure it out I did and managed to get a few rows done.

(In my eyes, said hero isn't looking quite so heroic with his attitude. He's still ignoring me for whatever reason. I can do the same.)

When I was satisfied I had the 'reverse' purl down pat, I turned my attention to the other stitch I wanted to learn. The pattern is called 'entrelac' and looking at the instructional chapter of the book I was using, I was amazed at all the different ways it could be done. I'd only seen it done in knit/purl. It looks something like a basketweave but is done differently. Craft directions don't always make sense to me so I have to read it, one stitch at a time until I see the results.

The sample called for twenty-four stitches but I added on a few more and made it thirty-two. All the better to see how it shapes up. The first directions are for setting up the triangles for the bottom edge. Because of the way it's done it's bunched up and you don't get a really good look but it's enough to know if you've succeeded. The corner triangle was a wee bit more challenging but I had to give myself a pat on the back for getting that done as well. 

Wow!  Two techniques in one night. That's a record for me.

As to the writing... Have I figured out yet what's wrong with the current plot? Nope. The hero's still refusing to say anything. I suppose I can either stand in front of this wall and wait for him to express himself, to discuss his problems.  Or I can ignore it and him in favor of working on something else entirely.

All I can say is, he'd better start talking soon or he's going to find himself being replaced by a more co-operative hero.

Meet Pauline Holyoak

 Meet, award - winning, Canadian author, Pauline Holyoak 

Read about her, “spine-chilling trilogy.” It was inspired by her own experiences at a remote little cottage near Stonehenge. Merryweather Lodge

 

“This author paints each page with fantasy, colorful characters, and haunting events that would light up a movie screen.”

           

 I grew in Southeast England, in a coal mining village lovingly nicknamed, “The place that time forgot.” Go to my website, click on ‘Articles’ and find out why.  I immigrated to Canada when I was 21 in search of adventure and a new life.  I currently live in Alberta with my sports crazy husband, adorable sheltie dog and cantankerous ginger cat. I am the proud mother of two grown children and one adorable grandchild.

I immigrated to Canada, when I was 21. I came in search of adventure and a new life.

 

     As far back as I can remember the pen and paper have been my faithful companions and story telling my forte. As a child I would sneak away from the mundane adult world, find a private retreat (usually behind the garden shed) and imagine. There in my own little sanctuary I'd conjure up all kinds of intriguing tales and colorful characters. In my teen years my journal became my confident, revealing all my hidden secrets, private fantasies and wild notions within its pages. Later I started to write poems, articles and short stories, and pondered the thought of becoming a writer.
     When I moved to Canada I buried my dreams under layers of real life clutter. I chose a safe and practical career in child care, married and raised a family. But my creative spirit kept trying to dig its way out. I was asked to write articles and editorials for our local church. I taught a story time class at the school, which lead me to writing a children's book. I wrote an article about my husbands' prestigious grandfather and sent it to our local newspaper. They printed it. I kept sending them articles, they kept printing them. I was surprised by the compliments I received from the editor and readers. It was evident to me then that I had excavated my creative spirit.
      I decided to take a comprehensive writing course to improve my technique. With help from a proficient and supportive tutor, who told me I had a gift, I began to cultivate my skill. My articles started to sell and I received an assignment from a major Canadian magazine.

           

      The first book in my Merryweather Lodge trilogy was the Readers Favorite 2011 Silver Award Winner for paranormal fiction. I have also written two children’s books and had twenty five articles and editorials published.

 

I often get asked. “What inspired you to write this trilogy?”…

 

      Every summer, when I was a child, we would visit my aunt and uncle at their quaint little cottage on Salisbury Plain. It was called Scotland Lodge and was situated not far from the historical Stonehenge. My uncle worked as a farm hand for the local squire. My aunt tended the manor house. It was there as I roamed free, deep within the English countryside, that I experienced joy, enchantment and some very strange and frightening occurrences. It was like a fairytale kingdom with a sinister twist. The memories of my summers at Scotland Lodge stayed with me, as a sort of nagging unsolved mystery all my life. A few years ago I revisited my childhood wonderland (the old place still emanates a strange and eerie essence) and was led by some mysterious force into concocting this story and writing this trilogy. It is from my mystifying experiences at Scotland Lodge that this story has emerged.

 

Blurb: It’s Christmastime at Merryweather Lodge. Emily has returned to the old cottage from her home in Canada; after the untimely death of someone she loved. Will she be able to celebrate a traditional English Christmas in her aunts enchanting little cottage or will she be tormented by the hideous creature, again? Was Emily’s attempt to banish her unearthly adversary successful? Will her aunt disclose the secrets she has been concealing for so many years? What will happen when Emily’s best friend comes to visit her? What secrets will she reveal? Will Emily ever get to make love to the man of her dreams?  A chilling tale of love, passion, sorcery and sacrifice; laced with mystery and tied with humor.

 

 Excerpt: I heard voices, lots of voices, some in a language I didn’t understand. “Find her you imbeciles. She has come back and she cannot escape. There is nowhere for her to go.” I recognized that voice but - could be - ? Shadows of screaming vultures circled overhead. The air was crisp and biting.  I moved back from the stone and gazed around the area. The ancient monoliths were smooth and uniform, in a perfect circle. Fires inside the circle lit the sky and the air reeked of wood smoke, sweet herbs, and death. I rose from the ground and peeked around the blue stone. There were clusters of people - some in long white robes, others wore dark hooded cloaks.  One of the groups closest to me was performing some sort of slaughtering ceremony. I cringed at the gruesome site. 

 

      Merryweather Lodge – A quaint little cottage, steeped in history, shrouded in secrets, its aura a paradoxical essence of heaven and hell. Come with me to the West Country in England and experience my protagonist’s strange and eerie journey there.

Merryweather Lodge – Ancient Revenge and Merryweather Lodge – Malevolent Spirit

Available at  www.whiskeycreekpress.com – www.amazon.com – www.amazon.co.uk

Visit Pauline at her website www.paulineholyoak.com Book three coming soon…   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Things You Learn At a Wake

In spite of the title, this isn't going to be a morbid point of view. Rather it's an observation and a recent surprise.

Growing up I attended wakes of family friends. Back then, you paid your respects to the family before you sat quietly in the funeral parlor. When you spoke, it was in whispers and mostly in reference to the dearly departed.

Now things and attitudes have greatly changed. You still pay your respects to the family, but the gathering is more a celebration of life. You get reacquainted with family and friends you haven't seen in years. You learn of marriages, how the next generation is all grown up and there are new grandkids. (That can make you feel old.) You share 'Remember when' moments and recall other family members who are gone. There were two passings in my family in two weeks' time. The second passing brought together cousins and other relatives we hadn't seen since we were children.

As it turns out, one of those cousins has an interest in geneology and enough curiosity to do a bit of a search on the female side of the family. Armed with a swab for DNA this cousin found out some interesting facts about our ancestry.

We always knew our family came from Azorean background but I always wondered if maybe there was something more. The writer in me imagined there was. Usually, you discover this sort of thing while you're still young but sometimes you don't know where the information can be found when your sources no longer exist. (At least, that's the understanding.) Every kid is curious about their family. When I was quite young, people used to ask if I was Mexican. No, I assured them I was strictly of Portuguese descent. Imagine my surprise when I found out differently.

From what this cousin discovered, our mothers' (sisters) lines carry genetics of English, Irish, and a bit of Hungarian. There's also some pirate ancesters which could explain the Algerian blood in the family. I'd love to know if any of those pirates were famous. How neat would that be? With more background information, I could have a field day with story creation.

I've written medieval romance set in England but have never written anything about Irish. Maybe it's time to change that. As fascinating and informative as this revelation has been, I have one thing more to say about it...

What! No Scots?