Stay safe. Stay home.

How often have we heard those words in recent times?
How often have we said them?

Sadly, those of us who can hear and say them without cringing are privileged.
Too many people are NOT safe at home.  Not safe physically, emotionally, or mentally.

The pandemic crosses borders quickly and insidiously.  But so does family violence.

I knew that and my heart ached.  A few days ago I got a reminder.

Cindi sent me an email asking if she could put up a guest post on my blog.  Not only does she not feel safe at home, her blog is also not a safe place for her.

And of course I agreed.

Here is Cindi's story.  Sadly a story which is told across the world.

 ***

Ten Things

It has been a bit of a minute since I last posted on my blog [here], and I have no real explanation except that the things around me right now have been "off," and I've felt a bit numb and overwhelmed.  Exhausted from the yo-yo life ... thrown out and yanked in ... married to a manipulative, narcissistic alcoholic drug addict. 

I find myself, two years shy of 60, and 10 years into a life I never thought I would see again.  Six years after leaving everything familiar to start fresh in a place where there wasn't any history, or my husband's family and friends who would ply his mind with meth and cocaine.  

I've found myself wondering, especially in light of recent "shelter-in-place" lockdowns ... how many other women found that their home was less of a shelter, and more of a house of horrors?  How many other women have been standing in the shadows, afraid to speak up or speak out, because they felt they had nowhere to go.  No one to turn to that they could trust.  Where do you go when the only "safe" place is supposed to be home?  Who do you reach out to when you must stay six feet apart?

Some of you know that I recently separated ... let me rephrase ... my husband moved out after nearly eight months of turmoil in the house.  His drinking and disappearances became more frequent and his anger more explosive.  My own anger and unhappiness reached volcanic proportions and I said things that can never be forgiven.  Not that I want them to be anymore, and not that I'm apologizing for them either.  Especially after he spent an outrageous amount of money for online pornography, beer and liquor.

I thought that his absence would bring me some inner calm without there being constant drama and tip-toeing about, but that has not been the case.  His threats intensified.  He took Charlie

[my dog] overnight and subjected him to who knows what.  When Charlie was finally returned [after I said I would arrive with the police to get him if he was not], he was quiet, withdrawn, and exhausted for more than 36 hours.  I had to file a restraining order.  Call the police more than once, and the last straw came on Thursday when he tore open a screened window to come into the house while I was working to scare and intimidate me.   Scare me, he did.  Intimidate me, he did not.  As of this moment, at 10p on a beautiful Saturday evening, I still don't know if he has been served the restraining order papers that were filed on Wednesday morning.

His most recent attempt to bully and intimidate me has come with threats to shut off all of the utilities to the house because they are in his name, knowing that I work from home and a sudden disconnect of internet or electric would be damaging to me financially due to lost hours and wages.  (but you see, I am so much smarter than he.  In the last 24 hours I have had all of them put in my name so that he [pun intended] has no power over me.)

Originally, I wanted to be able to stay as long as possible in this house that I once thought would be the last house I ever lived in.  I've lived in more houses than half of my years on this earth.  I wanted a place to finally call home.  Perhaps even forcing him to concede defeat and let me keep it.   Watching with anticipation for every spring bloom, every new bird at the feeder.  But then I realized that those I thought were my "friends" are actually my enemies, and my inner circle became so small it consisted only of me and the fur-kids.   Even if I had been able to stay here in this house for the rest of my life, I would never feel safe here again.  Never feel connected to this town that once gave me such hope.

Plan B became to leave Wisconsin and move to Virginia where I would be closer to my mother in North Carolina, a sister and her family in Virginia, a brother and his family in Georgia, and another heart-sister and her family in Pennsylvania.  But I also need to make sure before I leave that the divorce has been started so that I don't have to come back or wait to meet a residency requirement in another state.  Reserving and renting a trailer to move the furniture I wanted to take to restart my life.  Finding somewhere to live before I got there.  Not as easy as it sounds with two cats and a dog, none of whom I will leave behind.  The list continued to grow, as did my stress, in opposite proportions to the amount of sleep I've been getting lately [just three hours last night].

Today I have been wandering from room to room during my breaks from work and doing a mental inventory.  I've come to realize that the process of leaving doesn't need to be as stressful as it is.

I measured the back of my truck and realized that it would hold six storage containers without needing to stack any of them above the window height.  Six tubs to hold everything I need to start my life again.  Furniture I can get again, most of mine are upcycled or yard sale finds.  There is a storage unit filled with things I've occasionally thought about, but have really not even looked at in three years.  My clothes are all from the Goodwill, and if I move to a little bit warmer climate, won't need six months of winter wear.

Standing in each room of the house, I looked around for ten things I couldn't live without.  Ten things I couldn't replace.  I had a hard time even finding ten in every single room.

If there is one thing I am looking forward to replacing ... it is the person I became, with the person I will become.  Someone new, for the last four decades of my life.  Someone hopeful, happy, and creative (yes, there will be another book written from this.  It is far too satisfying to write out the karma destiny for an ex to NOT give David his 15 seconds of fame.) 

At the beginning of this year, I chose a word to represent what I wanted this year.

I wanted to thrive.

Be blessed,

~ Cindi

***

And how I hope you can thrive Cindi.  Survive and thrive.  In safety.

C. Lee McKenzie - Guest Post

As most of you are well aware I am a greedy reader.  I will read most things and my reading happily crosses genre and target age groups on a regular basis.

Finding new books and authors in the blogosphere has been a HUGE boon.

C. Lee McKenzie has a new book out.  Which I devoured when I was sent an ARC.

I really, really enjoyed it (as I have every one of her books I have read) so I happily signed up for the blog tour.

Publication Date: October 25, 2019
Genre: Young Adult 

          A blood-smeared knife. One young man’s word against another. A lifetime dream crushed.

          The evidence points to Devon Carlyle. He was there when it happened. Everyone knows he had it in for Renzo Costa. And Costa says Devon was the one. In the judge’s rap of a gavel, Devon’s found guilty of assault. The star of the Oceanside High’s basketball team loses his shot at the one thing he’s worked so hard for—the championship game where college scouts could see how good he is.

          Now he makes his great shots in Juvenile Hall with kids far different from those that have always been in his life.

          Angry? Hell, yes.

          He’s bent on finding who did the crime. He’s bent on making them pay because he’s Not Guilty.

          But can he prove it?

***

 It is available now, and can be purchased from:

 Amazon

Australian readers can buy it from Amazon  here.

Barnes and Noble

Kobo:

Smashwords:

And, the very generous author, is giving away 5 digital copies and a $10 Amazon gift certificate, which (until midnight on Tuesday November 5) you can enter the draw to win a Rafflecopter giveaway








I asked Lee two questions:

It seems to me (and correct me if I am wrong) that it must get crowded and noisy in your head as characters clamor to be heard.  Do any of them surprise you and demand bigger roles than you had planned? 

Ah, yes. The clamor. While I was writing Not Guilty I had four major voices in my head almost every night. Ice needed to be heard. He was so special. Damaged by life’s circumstances, so talented, so vulnerable. My heart ached for this kid, and I had to see him safe somehow. 

And Tats--that rascal was a pain in the arse, but I loved him and his get to the point attitude. He knew what Ice had to get out of his belly before he could move on with his life, and he said it. I gave him a big brother to set him on the right path. I know he’s still walking it. 

Chewy was another one that tugged at me. He had a good heart; he just needed some guidance and a break from this world.

As to Devon, that boy grew up, and in my mind, he’s already on that college basketball team doing his school proud. He’ll be a good man.

The book I’m in the middle of writing now had a small character who suddenly took on a major role in the story. In fact, I’ve had to work at not letting her steal the show with her take-charge attitude. I’m beginning to think she’s my alter-ego, the person I’d really like to be. I’m enjoying writing all my wishful thinking into this character even if she does keep me awake a lot. I’m at 50K right now, so I figure I have another few weeks before she’ll be fully-fleshed out. Then I hope she’ll kick back and let me be during the editing process.  

I have always loved your character building.  Your characters learn and grow.
Editing.  Some writers love it, some hate it.  Which camp do you fall in and do you or your characters call the shots?

When it comes to editing, I love it. This is where I dig in as deep as my understanding of the craft and of my work will let me. It’s exciting to find the layers that my earlier drafts have skimmed over. I keep thinking there’s gold here somewhere. Please let me find it. I’m in charge during this part of the writing process. I tell my characters to step aside. "I’ve got this, guys. You had your say during the creative part, now let the author take over and tidy things up, okay?”

 

Thank you Lee.  I am always grateful to authors who share parts of their writing journey.  

Some Very Messy Medieval Magic

Isn't that a wonderful book title?
Most of you know that I am an unashamed bookaholic.  And read widely, across genres and age groups.
I have been remiss of late.  I owe several blogging friends reviews.  I will get to them.  I promise.
So when C.Lee McKenzie asked for some bloggy support for her latest book I turned a new leaf (a leaf I hope to keep turning).  While I have read the earlier books in this series I haven't read her latest work.  Yet.  I assuredly will and have loved everything of hers I have come across.
So I have asked her to do a Guest Post and tell us a little about her work.  I hope that you will succumb to temptation and buy one (or more) of her books.

Please give Lee a huge welcome.

***

Hi Sue and thanks for hosting me in your paradise today I always leave here with visions of beautiful plants or birds or art.

You asked me a couple of questions that I really love, so here goes.


Do you or your characters call the shots/direct the action?

 I try to be the boss, and in the beginning, I pretty much am. I think. I visualize how they look and sound. I name them. I set them on the path that I want them to travel. This all happens before I write a word, but when I have a solid image, I put my fingers on my keyboard and let ’er rip. The problem is that once the words are on the screen, I often don’t recognize the characters. They come down from my head to my fingertips and in that brief journey, they’ve morphed into people I must deal with. By that I mean, I need to know them better. And I want them to trust that I’ll “get” them right. That’s the best way I have of explaining what happens, and it most likely means they call the shots from the get-go. I just like to think I’m important.



Am I right in thinking they become very, very real to you?

Yes. And they never go away. I still carry on secret conversations with Shawna (Sliding on the Edge). She’ll always be full of sass, but now it serves her because she’s running Kay’s horse ranch and making it profitable.

Carlie (The Princess of Las Pulgas) is all grown up. She and Juan Pacheco are happy together and I see 2.2 kids in their home. I love following Hutch (Double Negative) as he goes through life. In my mind, he’s on his Masters Degree in college and going into social work to help kids. I’m sure he’ll be at the forefront of literacy campaigns. Cleo (Sudden Secrets) is all grown up and out of Morgan Heights. I’m sure she’s in touch with Beleza. Cleo didn’t marry Rudy, but they’re great friends. I have the sense her parents divorced. Odd, isn’t it? I almost feel I should go back to their house on Queensbury Circle and find out for sure.

That was all about my young adult books, but I also write middle-grade novels. I call these my vacation stories. In them I shake off as much of the real world as possible and step through one of those magic portals like the one in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.

With Pete and Weasel I get to venture into a dangerous swamp, talk to a few alligators and travel through time. In Alligators Overhead, I got to save a swamp and tweak some politicians’ noses. Yay! In The Great Timelock Disaster, I visited Dickens’s England and saw Queen Victoria crowned. How great is that? With Some Very Messy Medieval Magic the last book in this series, I met Richard The Lion Hearted. What a guy.

 I love Chinese mythology and astrology, so in Sign of the Green Dragon I played with both. I also happen to love anything about the California Gold Rush, so I set the story in an old boom town and explored a bit of that history that the early Chinese were such a large part of.



While my YAs takes on some serious issues that a lot of teen experience, my MGs are wacky fun with the ideas of friendship, honesty, and doing the right thing at their core.



 Well, this has been fun. I loved your questions; they let me go back and do some reminiscing. I haven’t done that in a while.

All my books are available online. 

Some Very Messy Medieval Magic is available at these locations. 

AMAZON . B&N . KOBO  . SMASHWORDS . YABC 

Print ISBN 9781939844460 / EBook ISBN 9781939844477

Order through Ingram, Follett, or from the publisher

EBook available in all formats 

My publisher has created a library request letter that I'm including. If people want to check out the book, rather than buy a copy, this is one way to make that possible.

Gobsmacked and Grateful.

Last month I took my courage in both hands and stepped out of my comfort zone, by entering the WEP Spectacular Settings Challenge.

As I trawled through the work of other contributors I was awed and blown away.  They took me to other times, to other places, to other worlds...

Last week I received an astonishing email.  My poem and photos had been selected at the winner of this first challenge!!!!  And how the judges selected any entry as 'best' let alone mine floors me.  You can see some of the other work selected for special mention here.  And they were incredible.  Really incredible.

Today I am doing a guest post with Denise Covey and Yolanda Renee at Write Edit Publish.  I hope you will join me there.

Guest post

Some time ago I commented on this blog on a guest post by a skilled photographer whose blog I have been following.  Shortly after that, I was honoured when Ginnie and Marcie invited me to do a guest post.  It will appear on Friday 31st August (their time) and on the horses' birthday in Australia.

For many of you there is nothing new in my post, but wandering back through previous posts and those yet to come at Vision and Verb will provide images of beauty and thoughts from the heart.