For nearly 20 years I have written suspense novels and
historical suspense, so it may come as a surprise—to you and to me—that I have
written my first children’s book, The Adventures of Blade and Rye.
Written for children ages 10 and under, The Adventures of Blade and Rye is written as a lyrical poem
similar to the style I loved when I was a small child and listened to my mother
reading The Cat in the Hat or The Night Before Christmas. The first
things I memorized were stanzas from those book pages, and they instilled in me
a love and appreciation for poetry.
The book is about two tiny fairies named Blade and Rye and
their adventures when they discover Planet Earth. They fall in love with the
Blue Planet and beg their teacher, Miss Indigo, to remain there to witness all
the exciting things that occur in nature. They must find the perfect home, which
takes them from mountain peaks to ocean depths. When they discover just the
right spot, they are turned into two tiny blades of grass to keep them safe
from wandering into danger. And there under the protective arms of a yew tree
beside an idyllic lake, they bask in the sunshine, witness the moon’s
appearance and discover life underground.
I have always loved angels and fairies and as I have researched
my Scots-Irish ancestry, the love and appreciation for these wee creatures have
only grown.
The official release date is November 22, 2018. Until then,
pre-orders can be placed with local bookstores for the paperback edition, which
retails for $11.99. The Kindle version is also available for pre-order at $4.99,
and amazon has jumped the gun and is selling the paperback prior to the
official release date. The book is 44 pages and full color inside and out,
illustrated beautifully by Susan Fitzgerald, who truly makes Blade and Rye come
to life.
My collie Simone passed away this week. Many of my readers
and social media followers came to know her and everyone that met her adored
her. Her picture hangs in the Robeson County (NC) Humane Society offices; the no-kill
facility that rescued her, a symbol of hope for all the dogs and cats that come
through there, a promise of a better life that is possible to all.
Her own early years were marked with abuse and neglect,
which was how she had come to Animal Control and discovered by RCHS volunteers.
I was asked to foster her; though she was about two years old and should have
weighed 75 pounds, she was barely 45 and completely traumatized. My job was to
get her well so she could be adopted out, but I fell in love with her and she
never left my home. I thought I was rescuing her, but it turns out, she was
rescuing me.
I also had two foxhounds, Mattie and Skipper. Mattie taught
her how to climb the stairs to my office so she could hang out, where the best
water was kept (in the toilet), and how to patrol the yard. Skipper taught her
where all the treats were and how to get them handed out. He cleaned her teeth
and taught Eddie, a Jack Russell adopted a year later, how to clean them as
well. She was patient as her jowls were lifted up by their muzzles while they
worked on her.
After she’d put on weight, I brought her to be spayed. It
was during surgery that the vet discovered she had given birth shortly before
she was rescued at the pound, and she’d never fully healed. She had only been
with me for a couple of months at that point and hadn’t yet figured out that
she was in her Forever Home. When I picked her up, she appeared depressed, her
head hanging, her steps slow but steady, following the leash but not really
looking up. When we arrived back home and Mattie and Skipper greeted her
enthusiastically, she sprang to life, running from room to room, jumping in
each doggie bed before rushing off to the next. It was then that she knew she
would always come back to us. She was family.
Eventually, Skipper passed away, followed a few years later
by Mattie, and Simone became Big Sister to Eddie and Lucy, another Jack Russell
adopted five years later. Her face lit up when they were near and she treated them
as if they were her own puppies that never managed to grow up.
Simone and I grew older together. We slowed down
considerably, her with arthritis and me with nerve damage, both of us favoring
one leg and unable to walk far. We both grew hard of hearing until I realized
she had to see me before she could hear me. And when she walked into a room and
suddenly stopped and looked around, I knew she was wondering what she’d come in
there for.
We had our routines; as I was getting dressed each morning,
she would come to stand by my side until I loved on her and told her she was
the most beautiful collie ever, the Claudia Schiffer of collies, and a
sweetheart, too. More often than not, she would leave the room, circle around
and come back in to hear it all over again.
She followed me to my office every morning for her dental
treat and to lie at my feet while I worked, and she followed me downstairs at
lunch and wherever I went.
Simone knew what so many humans don’t: that love and
acceptance is all that matters. Though she had been abused and neglected, she
greeted everyone that came to the house with the same silent dignity and gentle
greeting—man or woman, black or white, two legs or four. It made no difference
to her that she was black and the Jack Russells were white; she loved them
anyway and they adored her.
She had gone to the vet the week before Hurricane Florence
and gotten a clean bill of health. And earlier this week, she’d returned to
have her teeth cleaned. When she came home, she was unsteady on her feet but we’d
been told to expect that as the anesthesia took time to wear off. She laid on the
patio listening to the birds singing, eventually coming through the doggie
doors into the house, where she tried to get comfortable on the air
conditioning vent in the living room and then in front of the tower fan in the
bedroom.
I lay down beside her, telling her what a sweetheart she was
and how everybody loved her. Her head was up, her ears erect, and she seemed to
be watching something I couldn’t see. I dozed off and dreamed that she was about
3 or 4 years old and outside where Mattie and Skipper were greeting her as they
had that day so long ago. Each was asking the other where they had been before
taking off at breakneck speed to run and jump and play. When I opened my eyes,
I realized only two or three minutes had passed and when I checked on Simone,
she was gone.
Many religions believe at the moment we pass to the other
side, we are greeted by someone we know, someone that loves us, because we all
have someone we trust and love. I like to think as Simone passed, Mattie and
Skipper were truly there waiting for her, eager to show her around. They no
doubt have introduced her to Buddy, the Australian Shepherd that helped me
raise them, and to Charmer, the Old English Mastiff who was Buddy’s best friend
and “brother”. I have a feeling that my mom is telling her right now that she
is a sweetheart, and her voice so like mine, is soothing her.
But the truth is I miss her. I miss her walking into the bathroom
every morning to hear that she’s the Claudia Schiffer of collies. I miss seeing
her sleeping in her bed with all four paws in the air. I miss listening to her snoring
while I watch television. I miss hearing her paws behind me, following me
everywhere, laying down in places where I’d have to step over her, cuddling in
my arms like a true lady and then burping in my face.
Conflict always drives fiction. In real life, we may wish
for things to fall into place easily, days go by smoothly, and relationships
unfold effortlessly. But in fiction, nothing can be easy—because easy equates
to boring. Watch the vlog below for all the details, or skip through to the list below.
Plots and subplots take on greater significance if they
contain one of the Most Stressful Events, as defined by the Holmes-Rahe Stress
Scale:
Death of a spouse, a child or a close
friend or family member. Especially when this takes place at the beginning
of the book, it can take us on a journey to discover the cause of death or the
events that unfolded culminating in the death. It can also serve as a departure
point for the future, such as the surviving spouse learning to redefine his or
her life without the one they love. It can also become an investigation into a
double life or secrets hidden. And it can also open the door into the
afterlife, such as Richard Matheson’s What Dreams May Come.
Divorce or marital separation. Fiction
can begin with the separation, as my book, A Thin Slice of Heaven did, which
began a journey for the spouse left behind. (See trailer below) The plot could include other
factors with a divorce or marital separation as a subplot woven into the
tapestry of the book. Or events could unfold that lead to a climactic scene
involving the divorce or marital separation. In each of these scenarios, there
must be a sense of moving on, such as Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore by Robert Getchell.
Imprisonment. I can’t mention
imprisonment without bringing to mind The Shawshank Redemption by Stephen King,
which begins with the imprisonment of an innocent man into a corrupt and cruel
prison system. Imprisonment is also a common theme outside the law,
particularly with the kidnapping of young women or children, leading the
parents or someone close to the missing person on a quest to discover how and
why they were captured—and of course, to attempt to free them.
Personal injury or illness. This plot
is meant to turn the character’s life upside down, forcing them to look inside
themselves for the strength and the courage to survive. It is often used with
the injury or illness occurring in the beginning of the book. The plot then
brings the reader along for the daily struggle, causing us to empathize with
their misfortune. It is often through reading books of this nature that we
strengthen our ability to sympathize with others and appreciate their personal
struggles and misfortunes. The injury or illness can also be used as a reason
to keep the person in one place or incapacitate them in some way. An
interesting book is The Art of Looking into Hitchcock’s Rear Window by Stefan Sharff, which provides a detailed analysis of the main
character’s injury and his fixation on what is happening outside his window.
Marriage. This plot can revolve around
an existing marriage and can lead the reader to the point where we’re unsure
whether the marriage can survive the traumas inflicted upon it. It can also
begin with a marriage of two unlikely partners, perhaps two people from
different walks of life or separate cultures, people whose personalities are
not compatible—or the wedding can be the focus of the book. It can also be the
story of reconciliation, in which two people that walked away from one another
are brought back together through extraordinary circumstances.
Work. This plot lends itself to an
infinite variety of genres, as the characters’ vocations are key elements. It
could begin with something traumatic happening at work that catapults our hero
into a journey of mystery, romance or adventure. It could be a character study
in how one person melts down due to work stress and how each decision that
person makes impacts countless others. It can also include a new job or
retirement, both of which cast the hero into a new situation. My book Vicki’s Key begins with Vicki
leaving her job at the CIA after a failed mission, embarking on a new journey
to a small town where she hopes—but doesn’t get—a peaceful transition to
civilian life. (See trailer below.) Work can also include war, palace intrigue, historical
backdrops, and a variety of locations and scenes.
In each of these situations, we place the main character
into an unknown situation where they must adjust to changes they may not have
wanted or even imagined. It is the conflict that propels the story forward,
placing the reader into their shoes and causing us to ask ourselves what we
would do if we were caught in a similar situation. We may even straddle the
fine line between good and evil, sanity and unhealthy states of mind—or even
circumstances that could cause an otherwise law-abiding citizen to go off the
rails. In all of these situations, we know the hero—and perhaps other
characters—will be transformed at the end of the journey.
I love a great ghost story, and Secrets of the Lighthouse by Santa Montefiore is a unique one. The first page instantly drew
me in as I pictured a young wife and mother looking at a lighthouse in the
beautiful Connemara region of Ireland and a tiny chapel by the sea where family
was gathering for a funeral. As the chapter drew to a close and I discovered
the narrator, a woman whose shoes I'd set myself into, was actually a ghost
watching her own funeral, I was completely intrigued. I had to find out what
happened in the charred remains of the abandoned lighthouse.
In between the ghost’s chapters, we follow the
story of Ellen Trawton, who has decided to run away from her family’s home in
England and visit her mother’s sister Peg, whom she has never met. In fact,
Ellen’s mother had been adamant that her family never visit Ireland so when
Ellen arrives, she is shocked to discover that she not only has an aunt but a
number of uncles and cousins. Ellen is running away from an arranged marriage
she never wanted to a man she doesn’t love, as well as the pretentious
trappings of her mother’s life—a life she wants her daughters to emulate. Aunt
Peg’s home sits along the same coastline as the abandoned lighthouse and Ellen
is intrigued with the rumors of what happened there, each piece of gossip more
salacious than the last.
The author causes the village to come alive. I
could feel the Wild Atlantic Way as the ocean’s spray reached Ireland's west
coast, could smell the salt on the air and taste the rain that is ever present.
Within the pages, I witnessed a large group of characters spring to life and
yet I never felt overwhelmed by them all, and each was easy to remember. Each,
in fact, carried a story of their own, a small piece of the larger puzzle that
brought the mystery to life.
Secrets of the Lighthouse is a story of decisions made, often in haste and without
regard for the consequences. In turn, they placed each character on a
particular path, some by their own choice and others as collateral damage.
Ellen discovers secrets that were hidden for
thirty years, secrets that impacted both her past and her future. Her mother’s
story unravels to reveal the lies that were told, the life that was chosen—and
that life which she left behind, the consequences of which reared up when least
expected.
When Ellen falls for Conor, the ghost’s
widower, she must decide whether to believe the tales told in the village pub
or discover what really happened that fateful night at the lighthouse. As she
grows ever closer to Conor, his dead wife must decide what she will do, where
she will go, and whether to leave this life behind or continue haunting it.
If you enjoy stories set in Ireland, a ghost
story, romance, mystery and adventure, you will enjoy Secrets of the Lighthouse. I am looking forward to reading more from this author.
One major way in which fiction differs from reality is with
closure. Readers need to have most of their questions answered by the end of
the book or they feel dissatisfied. In reality, a lack of closure is commonplace
and often leads to a great deal of angst.
A common circumstance that prevents closure is through a
death, especially if the death is sudden or unexpected. We may have a tendency
to believe that the people surrounding us will always be there and will always
be available to answer our questions, when in reality none of us carry any guarantees.
A loved one’s unexpected death might then leave us with unanswered questions for
months—or even years.
In fiction, the plotline may begin with the death of a loved
one. We find our hero suffering from heartbreak due to the physical loss as
well as experiencing a sense of loss from all their unanswered questions. This,
in turn, places the hero—and the reader—on a journey. A notable bestseller that
uses this plotline is The Shack by Wm. Paul Young.
Or we might discover the deceased led a double life and the
person we thought we knew was someone else entirely. In A Double Life by Flynn Berry, the
deceased is someone that is murdered and the loved one—the hero’s father—is missing
for nearly thirty years. In Claire’s journey to discover what happened, she is
placed on a path that will determine whether her recently discovered, estranged
father is a murderer. The book is inspired by the real life story of Richard
John Bingham, 7th Earl of Lucan and better known as Lord Lucan, who disappeared in 1974.
In other stories, we discover things about the deceased that
might have pulled the hero closer to their loved one, if only they had known. A
notable one is Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Hg,
in which a couple’s favorite child is found dead in a local lake, plunging the
family into a journey filled with secrets and longing.
In other stories, the hero might have inherited property
from the deceased, often from a distant relative they barely knew. The property
is never in the hero’s hometown, but always in an unfamiliar setting, which
takes us on a journey of discovery together. They often encounter secrets long
hidden, a haunted property, or in forging a new life for themselves, they fall
in love or otherwise are placed on a path they had never foreseen. Many times
they confront problems, often seemingly insurmountable, and through the act of
perseverance they come through the fire, forever changed.
In reality, not having closure is also increasingly common
through ghosting, a term I (being of an older generation) was not familiar with
until recently, although the AO (Always Online) generation considers it a fact
of life. In this case, the loved one has not died but has simply become a ghost
to someone with whom they had a relationship. The one that is left may have
been unfriended or unfollowed on social media, have had their phone numbers and
email addresses blocked, often rendering the other party impossible to reconnect
with. This leaves even more unanswered questions as the biggest question of all—Why?—remains elusive. This is
particularly frustrating when the parties live far apart, even on opposite
sides of the world, preventing the party that was left from physically
reconnecting.
One novel that dramatically covers this phenomenon is Ghosted by Rosie Walsh. Two people meet and fall
in love and when one disappears, the other is left with a million questions.
This is a page-turner that takes our hero on a quest to discover what happened
to the man she loves.
Then there are novels in which closure doesn’t occur until
decades later, such as Secrets of the Lighthouse by Santa Montefiore, the story of a woman that travels to Ireland and discovers thirty-year-old
family secrets—and in so doing, discovers her future.
In fiction, unlike real life, authors must make sense of the
journey we’ve put the reader on. In reality, much of our lives appear to have
no rhyme or reason and we are constantly discarding those things our
subconscious deems unimportant to fill our brains and our time with those
things our subconscious considers important. Novels must dispense with the
unimportant and focus only on what is critical to the plot. Every scene must
perform double duty, and by the end of the book the reader must be satisfied why they were taken on this journey. The
best books leave lessons behind. The best books contain characters that come alive
in our minds and heart, characters that have become our friends or our foes
during the course of the book and that remain with us long after we have
finished that last page. To leave the character in limbo or the reasons
unexplained is to leave the reader with the sense that closure has eluded them.
The exception is when a book leads us to the next in the
series. We still require closure of those challenges that brought us through
the plot with the characters, but we also begin to see clues that the characters’
stories are continuing. Perhaps they are given a new job, different mission, a
move is imminent or a romance is beginning. We have become invested in the
characters so we will eagerly await their next adventure as we have done with
James Bond, Jason Bourne and others.
And in that continuing adventure we discover that the novels
now imitate life, and once one chapter is laid to rest, another begins.
There have been a lot of comments about the cover of Checkmate: Clans and
Castles. Eye-catching and unusual, reviewers and contest judges have
been keen to connect the dots between all the different elements, leading to
this post on the thought that goes into a cover.
The background is a photograph of fire, inspired by the fact
that “all of Ulster was burning.” The fires began in Derry, bordered by the
River Foyle to the east and County Donegal to the west, set by the last Gaelic
Irish King of Ireland, Cahir O’Doherty, and his men at the same time as O’Doherty
killed Derry’s Governor, Sir George Paulet.
William Neely and others that had sworn allegiance to King James were a
scant group against O’Doherty’s more powerful and numerous forces and as the
sun set, Wills asked, “What day is this? I am afraid I do not even know the
date.”
The men thought for a moment. “April 19,” Tomas said finally. “A
Tuesday, it is.”
They fell silent then, each with his own thoughts, as the last vestiges
of the sun descended beyond the horizon. It was odd in a way, Wills thought; he
could not recall a single day in which it had not rained. Even on the most
beautiful of mornings with naught a cloud in the sky, there was always rain by
afternoon. It was the hide of the beast, being on an island such as this with
nothing to stop the clouds as they blew over the Atlantic. And it was the
reason, he knew, for the varied shades of green; for the forests that sprang
back up even after they had been trampled down or burned out; for the lush
vegetation that stubbornly grew amidst the rocks and the limestone. And yet on
this date—Tuesday, April 19, 1608—as Derry was torched and burned to the
ground, not a single drop of rain had fallen to douse her flames.
O’Doherty would rally all of Ulster together, joining clans
that had traditionally fought against one another, in a brazen attempt to
regain Ireland and drive the English and Protestant Scots from their island,
depicted on the cover as soldiers on horseback within the outline of chess
pieces:
All of Ulster was burning.
Colonists flooded the tiny settlement of Fort Stewart in the ensuing
days; each questioned regarding their village, its inhabitants and possible
identification of clans involved. They came from the east and west, north and
south, all with the same tale: surprise attacks, civilians ordered out of their
homes before they were torched, and men killed when they fought back. They came
in overwhelming forces flying flags of a dozen or more clans and in each
instance they were urged to return to their native countries. It appeared as if
the Irish were expelling the immigrants and there was nothing and no one to
stop them.
Some simply passed through on their way to Donegal and a ship to carry
them back to their native country. Others were en route to Dublin, where they
believed they would be safer. Outside of Ulster, there was unrest but nothing
like the uncertainty of attacks and rebellion they faced here.
From the fields, he could watch the water on Drongawn Lough and his
eyes would inevitably wander to the land mass on the other side of it;
O’Doherty property, it lay like a silent sentinel, waiting, waiting.
The chess outlines were inspired by this scene that included
an altercation between Cahir O’Doherty and George Paulet:
Cahir made a move for the sword he carried across his back, but Phelim
held him steady. “Not here,” he said, the pressure on Cahir’s shoulder visibly
increasing. “Pick your place and time.”
After an awkward moment, Cahir glanced meaningfully at the chess board
and said, “You have allowed yourself to become flanked.” With that, he
reluctantly shifted his eyes away from Paulet and slowly continued toward the
door. When Wills turned back to the bar, he found three mugs waiting and Fergus
had joined his side.
“I’ll just be taking these two,” Fergus said, his large hands grasping
two mugs.
As Paulet returned to his chair, he shouted, “Serving wench! Where is
that disgusting bint? Bring me another ale. Someone has absconded with mine!”
Wills made a move to point out Paulet’s mug but Fergus moved into his
line of vision. “Don’t,” he said. “Stay out of it.”
“I am afraid,” Paulet’s chess partner stated, moving his bishop to capture
Paulet’s king, “that the ruffian was quite correct. I flanked you, dear George,
and now your king is finished. Checkmate.”
Usually, only one of the elements would have been used on
the cover: the fire, the men or the chess pieces. But the book is non-stop
action and adventure as William Neely seeks to find his fortune and his future
in Ulster, only to be caught up in O’Doherty’s Rebellion. The Neely family had
originally lived in Ulster, ironically in and around the Inishowen Peninsula
that the O’Doherty family ruled for over a thousand years. They left in the 13th
century for Scotland, and William returned in 1608. As O’Doherty’s Rebellion
broke out, he had a choice: to remain loyal to King James I of England or switch
sides and fight alongside men that might have been his distant cousins.
The book is available in all book stores; if you don’t see
it on the shelf, ask for it. Or you can buy
it today on amazon. It is also available in all ebook formats.
Our heroes often feel larger than life: Ian Fleming’s James
Bond, Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Daisy Buchanan, Patricia
Cornwell’s Kay Scarpetta or Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone.
But in reality, most heroes are filled with self-doubt at
one time or another and many appear to fling themselves into self-sabotaging
behavior. When we consider it in terms of book characters, there are people
that allow themselves to be swept along by Fate while others attempt to mold or
destroy—and sometimes, mold and
destroy—everything around them.
A character that is swept along by Fate is someone that is
searching for a peaceful, idyllic existence. They don’t want to rock the boat,
but the boat ends up rocking them. We can see this in Melanie and Ashley Wilkes
in Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With the Wind: they are content reading their books, participating in
polite society events and overseeing their fortunes. Their world is rocked,
however, by a war that neither of them wanted but in which they were destined
to participate, if for no other reason than precisely because of the lifestyles
they both enjoyed at the expense of slave ownership.
A character that is intent on molding their world into
something they want can be seen in the autobiographical The Wolf of Wall Street by Jordan Belfort. Once a teenager selling Italian
ices, he became a stockbroker, earning thousands of dollars a minute through
microcap investing. He saw what he wanted and he went after it with a
single-minded focus, a tunnel vision that created an empire and made his name
infamous.
But often the characters—in our books as well as real life—sabotage
themselves. When they are at their zenith, they develop an almost pathological
tendency to tear everything apart. In Jordan Belfort’s case, it took the form
of excessive binges (including a $700,000 hotel tab), extramarital sexual
excesses, drugs, money laundering, fraud and prison. (Belfort was both the protagonist
and antagonist, because he turned out to be his own worst enemy.)
Often our heroes exhibit self-sabotaging behavior in more
subtle ways: the mediocre businessman afraid of real success, the character
that we’re begging to turn around and walk away but feels compelled to enter
the dark, frightening house filled with ghosts or bad guys… The hero that
destroys every relationship until they meet someone with equal strength that
won’t allow him or her to walk away… They could be brilliant at what they do
with their lives and then destroy it all through alcohol, drugs, gambling or simply
poor choices.
It has been said that there are no truly good people and no
truly bad ones; only those that have a mixture of both. Some move from one side
to the other in subtle ways, while others careen like trains hurtling off the
tracks. The best characters, the most memorable ones, are those that show us both
their sides: Rhett Butler, in his tender love for his daughter Bonnie as well as his illegal
blockade running; or Jesse Stone Novels by Robert B. Parker featuring Jesse as a top-notch police
chief and investigator with a dark side battling depression and alcohol while
still carrying a flame for an ex-wife who has moved on. (Made into a fabulous
film series starring Tom Selleck.) Often we cheer for the hero that is acting
outside the box but with altruistic motives.
Authors walk a fine line with these characters. The reader
must be able to identify with them or place themselves in their shoes, so their
foibles cannot be so off-putting as to turn the reader away. Sometimes it’s the
character’s weaknesses that draw the reader closer, creating sympathy but also
admiration for the way they carry on despite their personal demons.
And let’s face it: no one really wants to read about the
perfect character living the perfect life. Do they?
Watch the video below or on YouTube at https://youtu.be/0h4GwCoajAk
