In addition to working on Messenger of the Gods, next in the Dragon Core series, I’ve been updating current books in the series as well as the covers.
And the site banner.
Each book will have a new cover once the updates have been processed.
Note: Will be short and sweet
I draw from education, imagination, and experience when creating. As I was working on a scene from Messenger of the Gods I remembered an experience that had me shaking my head.
It’s pretty funny I think.
The Scene.
Mine not the book.
A tech consultant for a Fortune 500 Company I was in Corvallis, OR for a business trip.
Training.
I joined a group of classmates interested in checking out the very cool college town for lunch.
There were about ten of us.
We found a cool place.
Few things create mealtime agreement as quickly as pizza.
We hadn’t been sitting long when a group of college students walked in.
Scoping the place out.
Our table was near the door so we were the first customers they saw.
We Can’t Eat Here!
Someone in the group of young adult males said “Aw we can’t eat here. This is an old person’s place!”
Who US?
Startled by the implication we erupted in laughter.
To give perspective I was 29 years old and being carded regularly.
What -?
What brought on this fun memory? I have a series character – Seattle vice detective Lug/Lucas Drake.
Who when it comes to beer likes reds.
Aesop’s Cove is in Seattle so wanted to source a PNW beer.
I use various beers from throughout the country in my Dragon Core books.
For this scene I used Mosaic Red from Oregon Trail Brewery.
Located in Corvallis, OR.
Cheers!
I am proud to share an excerpt from the first project in over a year
Thank you Covid induced burnout.
Excerpt
Warehouse Square Seattle
Rowan Cahill came up the stairs to see her neighbor fiddling with a set of keys while struggling to hang onto a paper bag overstuffed with cans and boxes.
“Here let me help with that.” Setting her portfolio down she stepped forward and reached for the bag.
In more pain than he wanted to admit Jake McLachlan waved off the offer barely managing to avoid dropping his keys as he did so.
“Don’t be silly,” she replied and tried to get a better grip on the bag.
“Really,” he insisted, “I got this.”
“Stubborn pride.”
The words proved prophetic as a bottom weakened by heavy cans ripped sending cans rolling away from the doorway and boxes dropping in front of it.
Jake watched in irritation as several cans and other items rolled down the stairs and his keys disappeared beneath a pile of boxes. With a sigh of the aggrieved he bent over intending to get the keys only to crack heads with his would-be Samaritan who was also reaching for them.
Rowan stumbled and would have fallen had her neighbor not reached out to steady her. Unfortunately he overbalanced and ended up going head-first into the wall behind her.
Seeing stars from hitting his head twice in succession Jake blindly slapped at whoever was trying to – what he didn’t know. What he did know was instincts honed by centuries of defending against one foe or another had him hitting out with more force than he would have had he been thinking clearly. Blinding pain made that an impossibility.
All the air went out of Rowan’s lungs as her chest made hard contact with knees. A cry of agony snapped her out of panic brought on by having the wind knocked out of her.
“Oh my God, do you need an ambulance?” she gasped scrambling to get off her would-be knight. She felt awful that in trying to keep her from falling he was hurt.
“Would you please -?”
“Do you need an ambulance?” she repeated.
“I do not need an ambulance!” he snarled.
“At least let me get you some ice.” Grateful to be breathing easy she dug for keys she saw disappear beneath a box of rigatoni and hurried to get the one that looked like it was a house key into the lock.
Jake considered how lucky the pretty red-head dashing into his home without his permission was that the throbbing in his leg kept him from being able to shout. Before he could decide on next actions she was back with a dish towel he recognized.
“Where does it hurt?”
When her handsome neighbor closed his eyes and shook his head Rowan looked down hoping to get an idea. Zeroing in on his right thigh she brushed his hand away and placed the dish towel filled with ice. “I feel terrible.”
Jake supposed he should be grateful burning pain was robbing him of speech. It kept him from admitting she had nothing to feel terrible about. If he’d accepted her help at the outset none of this would have happened. “Who are you?” he managed.
It took a minute for the words to process but Rowan looked into eyes of grey. “I’m your new neighbor.”
Jake couldn’t help but laugh. “I know that. What’s your name?”
“How did you know?”
“What?”
She hoped keeping the guy talking would keep his mind off the pain.
“How did you know I was your new neighbor?” She didn’t think he could know given she moved in while he was out of town – a different neighbor shared that tidbit – and she had been ever since. Until getting in at midnight the night before that is.
“You have to be otherwise you couldn’t have gotten in.” Not because of any key but because protective wards had been cast over the entirety of Warehouse Square, an area where four turn of the century warehouses wrapped around a beautiful small patch of lawn the city called a park. For tax purposes of course.
“Oh, well I suppose that’s true. How’s the ice? Is it helping? Not too cold?”
“It’s fine.”
“Good,” she said then zipped down the stairs to retrieve cans and other goods strewn about.
“What are you doing?”
Jet-lagged more than she’d admit Rowan shot a derisive look over her shoulder. “You’re kidding, right?” Without another word she disappeared inside.
Not about to let a perfect stranger no matter how pretty put her energy in his kitchen Jake grit his teeth against the pain and pushed up the wall before hobbling into his loft.
Clare’s loft.
The thought came from nowhere, sent him staggering.
“You are not okay,” Rowan snapped and grabbing the closest chair tried to force her good-looking neighbor into it.
“I’m not a bairn damn it!” Jake howled after again cracking heads with his neighbor.
“For the love of God you prideful man sit your ass in that chair and be thankful someone cares about you!”
The throbbing in his thigh did the talking and Jake was soon watching his neighbor open cupboard after cupboard as she put his groceries away. He could have told her where things should go but she was right he was being prideful. May as well revel in it while he could because as the gods were his witness his damn chivalry was bound to rear its ugly head sooner or later.
It’s only because I’m a holistic doctor I believe I could better explain what to expect to an aspiring writer than how it was explained to me when I attended my first Writer’s Conference.
Sixteen, a classmate and fellow aspiring writer gave me The Writer’s Market for Chrismas and took me to my first Writer’s Conference at Oakland University. Thank you, Eric H (Hoho).
Though my intention had been to be a novelist life intervened and I started out with nonfiction.
Beginning in 2011 I released works, interspersing fiction and nonfiction.
I didn’t have any trouble bouncing between the two genres. My problem circled back to one I’d been facing from the time I was 13 and wrote my first novel.
In a spiral notebook in blue ink.
The dilemma
If I wrote for an audience – to sell – I would be compromising my voice.
How did I get to this awful fork in the road? Research.
Personal Research
Though I enjoyed reading fiction there was a single genre that put me off even as the stories and characters were fun if not cool.
Especially historical.
Fluff
From the first time someone put a romance novel in my hands …
I was 12 living with my mom and brother in a basement because my parents split and we had no money.
This well-meaning soul thought I might enjoy a break from life
And a break from what I what I was reading at the time – Kane and Abel and other awesome works…
I don’t think this kind woman understood I WAS getting a break by reading this stuff.
And that I’d been reading college level since I was 6.
While I enjoyed the story plots of the romance novels she gave me it was the characters I had issues with.
Like the stupid bodice ripping covers of the era, the characters were cardboard cutouts of reality.
A Turning Point
I remember how this lovely woman reacted when, after asking how I liked the stories, I responded
“When I become a writer I’m not going to write women as brainless twits.”
She laughed.
She also tried to explain the stuff I was reading was escapism.
Key Word: Tried.
I told her all fiction is escapism and I preferred stories that painted characters – especially women – more realistically.
The Cabinet
Instead of telling me I was too young to understand or trying to tell me why I was wrong
Or trying to dissuade me from my dreams of being a novelist
This woman took me to a room in her basement
Stage left: Irony
This lovely woman was a close family friend of the neighbor whose basement we were living in.
She opened a rather tall cabinet containing a lot of romance novels.
She suggested I might like what was in there.
In other words, keep reading – if not keep living and don’t give up on your dreams because your young life was yet again pushed off the rails.
I went through the entire cabinet in a period of 3 or so months (all the while living in that basement) and weirdly enough decided if this was what was published it must be what people wanted to read.
So Here We Are
“…in the backwater overflow…” – Catch and Release, Silversun Pickups
The genre has evolved but what never changed was my desire to balance what I want to give readers with my view of how characters – especially females – should be.
Strong, independependent and educated either by life or some formal way such as military or secondary/higher education.
As I’m working through my Dragon Core project I’m reminded of this battle of wills.
A battle I can finally – having come into myself as a writer – address.
To my satisfaction. As a writer.
Stay tuned
In his book I’m Rich Beyond My Wildest Dreams I am I am I am Thomas Pauley suggests adding the line (paraphrasing here) It is seeking me as I am seeking it when writing your goals.
The idea being what you want is attracting you as you are attracting it.
I recently saw this in action.
As a novelist one of the first decisions I make after deciding on a plot and the characters is setting. As part of my selection process I take into consideration whether or not I’ve been to the area I’m considering.
If not then I consisder whether I’ve been to a place close or in some other way similar location.
In the case of my Dragon Core series it wasn’t just deciding between Seattle and New Orleans it was deciding on the setting within the setting.
I lived in New Orleans but so long ago I didn’t feel I could do it justice.
When it came to Aesop’s Cove I had the perfect location in mind as a “stand-in.”
I planned on having it as a place I could go work at so I could really soak up the vibe for the story.
Excited to have this ironed out I went with hubby for a celebratory lunch only to learn we’d shown up on the last day.
I remember staring at the waitress in shock as she told me they were going out of business.
Timing
What are the chances?
She brought the boss over after I explained why we were there. He was polite but strained.
No wonder.
Though I was ready to go forward with the story I knew I had to find a suitable place as a stand-in for Aesop’s.
To serve as a place to go when I needed an energy tune-up during times of writing fatigue.
Weeks turned to months and I could not find a suitable location.
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Waterfront
For a variety of reasons including serious career burnout I took time off from writing.
A lot of time.
During this time I focused on self-care.
A lot of walking.
As I walked I sorted through challenges, mysteries, and solutions to those mysteries.
Many of those mysteries related to manifesting goals.
What I didn’t do was focus on the challenge of finding a suitable location to be a stand-in for such an important plot element.
I just kept walking and “not” thinking.
One day I decided to try to get a bit of work done. At the time I was more thrilled with the idea I’d be able to do a bit of writing than where. As a result I gave little thought before slipping into a local haunt and sitting down to work.
Ch-ch-ch-changes
It had been some time since I’d been there.
Thank you Covid lockdown.
On some of these occasions I struck up conversations with visitors either local or not. While I occasionally mentioned what I was doing more often than not I just enjoyed listening to their stories.
I love hearing people’s stories.
I continued this trend and came to see the location was becoming key in my recovery from burnout.
Likely because while I was working there I didn’t associate it with work.
I associated it with relaxing and the opportunity for spontaneous conversation.
I tuned into the music playing, the conversations.
Conversations that took my mind off my troubles.
And then it hit me. I’d found my Aesop’s.
It only took about a year of not looking for it.
On a recent walk I pondered the mystery of how this happened. I’d been in that place before burnout and never considered it a suitable stand-in for the Cove. No sooner had that thought surfaced then Pauley’s words came to mind.
It is seeking me as I am seeking it.
During the time away from writing due to events beyond anyone’s control the place underwent a shift.
Thank you Covid shutdown.
I came to understand that as I was changing through my focus on self-care and health and wellness the location and its employees were also changing. By the time I circled back around it had become what I needed.
The Lesson
If only I had changed or only that location had changed it’s doubtful I would have found it to be a suitable stand-in. It’s because we were both pulling mutual energy for the same or similar goal that I was able to manifest what I needed.
One of the bigger changes was that they wanted to be more than just a place to hangout. They wanted to serve their diverse customers’ needs in ways I feel is friendlier.
Warmer, more inviting.
More like how I pictured Aesop’s Cove.
In coming to understand this need for transformtive change not just in myself but in some other aspect of the goal I found myself relaxing about a key element in the manifestation game.
Time
I’m more relaxed about how long the goal may take to manifest because I now truly understand it won’t til things are in place.
And that may take time.
I invite readers and visitors to enjoy this excerpt from Redemption – a Dragon Core tale.
With commentary.
Devi’s Diner, New York
The bell over the door jangled as Homicide Detective Mike Gilotti stepped through. Nodding to the cook he glanced around, noted that, as hoped, the place was relatively empty. A mom and her two kids sat at a booth close to the door while a regular by the name of Jackson nursed a beer at the counter near the kitchen. Two seats down a guy who would have been at home in the NFL was eating a burger. Waiving off the waiter who’d been on break he made his way toward a booth in the far corner.
“Hey Detective. Your usual?”
“I have a usual?” he fired back; his New York accent thick.
Kyle smirked. “You have two, actually. Black or bitter.”
“It’s bitter tonight,” he came back referring to beer instead of java. “I’m off for the next two days.”
“Anything to eat?”
“Nah.”
“You cheatin’ on us, Detective?” the waiter teased. “Eating drive-thru?”
“I was on a stake-out junior.”
“I knew it. Drive-thru.” He shook his head. “You know we do doggie bags.” He tapped the table. “Be right back with your beer.”
Author Commentary
Detective Mike Gilotti has been one of my favorite characters.
An amalgum of a variety of relatives either blood or through marriage he has been a lot of fun to work with as he acts as an outside view into the world those he loves and strives to protect.
What makes it particularly fun is how he not only accepts everything – in great part from his upbringing and professional experience – but draws the community he’s a part of into it.
As evidenced in this scene.
I look forward to his continuing role in the Dragon Core series.
Stay tuned.
Hello and Happy April Fools Day! In the midst of a project and decided to add a fun new feature to my website.
To bring a smile to readers and visitors.
Author Favorites
As part of this new feature I will be sharing some of my favorite scenes from various books.
Adding color commentary.
For the inaugural post I’m sharing a scene from Shadow of the Gods.
Note: For this scene I put myself in the mind of Mica – the line she’s walking – being in love with a shape shifter – having to hide this from her family.
How many of us have had to hide the one they were with from those who might not understand?
– and the funny and sometimes maddening situations she’s put in because of it.
It’s not like she can say “Hey, mom, dad…guess who’s coming to dinner …?”
Without further ado…
She is Mica
She chatted with the West Coast raven shifter for a few more minutes before hanging up and resuming her pacing. Too much going through her mind. Too much loose energy and damn if academics no longer served as a conduit for discharging it.
“Mica?”
She whirled. It was no mystery she hadn’t heard him but she couldn’t help wondering how long he’d been there watching her. “Hello, Cayden.” She stepped over to the window and into his embrace. He’d just opened his mouth to her when the door to her bedroom was thrown open.
Mica spun around. “Joe.”
For several moments her brother stared. “Tell me you weren’t just kissing a bird.”
It was all she could do not to laugh.
“It was like that Stevie Nicks album cover, right? But you weren’t kissing it.”
“What do you need, Joe?”
A child** of the 80s I recently decided to revisit Billy Idol’s Cradle of Love video.
A classic.
An interesting factoid came to the cosmic surface.
Factoid – fun.
It sounded more pleasing through the Youtube video.
Note: Engineer Derek Gauger (author of the Foreward to my book Riding the Waves) once tried to explain the sometimes painful audio experiences I had listening to digital – especially satellite music – was due to compression ratio.
When I listen to satellite radio I hear a high-pitched (awful/painful) squeal and any male singer sounds as if he’s wearing his Speedos too tight. Needless to say I’m not a fan.
Fiction V Nonfiction.
Though I’m working on a Dragon Core project I never miss the opportunity to learn.
Especially when it comes to EMF Sensitivity.
Something was niggling at the back of my mind.
An EMF something.
Donning a cherished Christmas gift
Headphones from Grado Labs.
I compared listening to the same song via Youtube video V Apple Music.
Apple doesn’t offer the music video which would have offered me an apples to – no pun intended – apples comparison.
Note: Every time I read “remastered” when searching for music I want to puke.
I cut my own casettes from album so don’t go there.
What I concluded is the Billy Idol video is far less painful – audially – than any remastered whatever.
I guarantee it has to do with that EMF context that gets caught up in the audio compression rate soup.
Conclusion
At this point? Doest it matter?*** What I do know is I won’t be downloading the mp3 anytime soon.
Given the video isn’t available for purchase I suppose I can play it in the background while working on Messenger of the Gods.
Audially? I bow to no one.
Not when it comes it listening quality.
** I was not a “child” then
*** Neil Young and his Pono project do.
Growing up with Hippie parents – not to mention LIVING through some of the times in question – child that I was – gives a unique perspective on life.
The gift that keeps on giving.
To Every Season
Turn Turn Turn
For whatever reason I stumbled when trying to find the vibe for Aesop’s Cove.
The heartbeat of Dragon Core
I wanted – needed – to sit in a place that felt like the Seattle centerpiece of the series.
To bask in vibes I could wear as I wrote.
No Dice
Damn Goldilocks
Like other Creatives the Muse is in charge
For years I traveled to and visited venues in and around the Seattle Metro Area
Dive bars, places that landed in one periodical or another…
Disrupting various lives – including my own – in search of the physical embodiment of of what I lived while writing those scenes.
Like I said – the Muse is in charge.
Turn turn turn
Unable to find the right locale [read vibe] I forged a way through a path of pain and uncertainty.
I couldn’t write until I had the soul pieces in place.
Muse again ya?
Turn turn turn
Enter Covid
The path forced me to take a break.
Or was it the Muse?
Turn turn turn
And so it came to pass that while I healed the world healed and – changed.
The one constant right?
One day I ventured to a place I’d been to but never thought of as a possibility for the Aesop’s Cove vibe. Lo and behold they’d evolved and the locale was now a solid physical option to wrap myself in the vibe.
Weirdly Enough
On the other side of the post Covid energy evolution …
I stopped by the place that had been a place holder for Aesop’s Cove only to find I no longer connected to it.
Still wrestling with that and what it means
Circle Back
A tool I use in my writing
Years ago I asked an engineer friend of mine living in A2 whether – when we move – do we change or does what we left behind change? His answer? Both
Which at the time was totally irritating.
I now understand what my friend was trying to convey.
Relativity revisited.
I couldn’t find my Aesop’s Cove before now because not only did the place not exist I was not ready; something the theory of relativity explains perfectly.
Thanks G3!
And so life happens.
When and as we need it.
Decided to head to a local place to do a bit of a working lunch.
In addition to good food and good service it has a good vibe.
Unplanned
I wasn’t anticipating that the moment I stepped through the door I would be invited to sit near someone already there. After a brief reflection – I’d planned on working – I decided perhaps the Universe was sending a message: Don’t work through lunch – enjoy it.
The patron was a delightful conversationalist.
He left before my lunch arrived.
In his absence I got quite a bit accomplished toward the current project
Messenger of the Gods, a Dragon Core novel.
As I ate I considered the break in an activity I’d been doing since elementary school
Working Lunch
It was the nuns who first suggested we utilize time eating to study or otherwise do schoolwork, going so far as to suggest we learn to eat with our nondominant hand while writing with the other.
Forgoing time outdoors to focus on studies whenever possible.
Long after I left Catholic school I continued the tradition of working through lunch.
Corporate = Right At Home
In some respects corporate success depends on the ability to work through lunch.
I don’t mean lunch meetings.
Many were the months spent working alongside fellow techies catching up or getting a head start, to the degree it was not only the norm, it was expected.
As were working nights and weekends.
If you wanted a Meets or Exceeds Standards on your review.
When considered in this context I realized that while I enjoyed the break, albeit a temporary one, to try to change such a habit would be to go against something I’ve done for decades.
Probably not worth the energy it would take to undo decades of programming.
Begs the Question
Does it Need to be Changed?
If I thought – or got feedback – the practice was harmful I would definitely be looking to change but given stepping out to a different environment has been tremendously beneficial to my well-being and my career, I have to think that in general, it’s not a bad habit.
One thing I know. Spontaneity is never dull.
Elizabeth Maxim 