Living the Dream

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. I’m continuing my new novel, Trouble with Eden. My cover artist has graciously provided a cover. I find it easier to draft the story when I can see my characters face to face.

Eden James Walford, known to everyone in Easton Corners as E J, sat in the lawyer’s office listening to her stepfather’s last will and testament. Dwayne Walford hadn’t been the easiest man to live with, but he’d been a good father and had loved her mother, sticking with her, doing the best he could for her until the cancer finally took her. Once her mother had passed, Dwayne had continued to care for twelve-year-old Eden, treating her like his own daughter, giving her a home, a name, and an education—even if it were an unorthodox one—and he’d given her a job. She’d loved the man, the only father she remembered, her own having died when she was an infant. Losing him was much harder than she’d imagined—and now this.

Dwayne what were you thinking?

Never in the twenty-eight-years that she’d lived with him had he mentioned having a child of his own. Now, he’d left half of Paradise Towing to his son, her stepbrother, along with half of the house. At least the money from his insurance policy and what there was in the bank was hers.

“So let me get this straight, Mr. Pruitt. I’m living in a house that is no longer mine, working for a company that belongs to a stranger.”

“Yes and no,” the lawyer said, his voice with its lazy maritime drawl grating on her frazzled nerves. He sat behind his desk, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, a plexiglass shield separating him from her. “The house was never yours per se. It belonged to your stepfather, although I suppose you considered it yours having lived there most of your life. We all think of our parents’ homes that way.”

Great. He wanted to argue semantics while she might be out on her ear.

“You own half of the property which includes the house and three outbuildings. Similarly, you own half of Paradise Towing and all its assets, except your car which your father gave you free and clear last year. I’d hoped we could go through that part of the will but unfortunately, Mr. Rivers is indisposed and can’t meet with us today. He was involved in an accident a couple of days ago. He hit a moose on the 138.”

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales

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Rebecca York – Christmas Miracle 1935: Can he trust her enough to help free her father from jail?
Patricia Rosemoor – Marrying Molly: Dear Santa, Please let me meet a McKenna man who will help me end Sheelin O’Keefe’s horrible curse on both our families. Molly Kavanaugh
Susanne Matthews – What Dottie Wants: All Ronnie wants is to give Dottie a great Christmas, but not being able to find the doll she wants may make that impossible.
Traci Hall – Christmas Kiss: Can a teenage crush become forever love?
Angela Stevens – Dear Sinterklaas: Dan had his heart stolen by a girl on summer vacation, now it’s Christmas time, and with a little bit of magic from Sinterklaas, he hopes to make his Christmas wish come true.
Stacy Eaton – Finding Love with Dear Santa: All Faith wants is to get her life back on track.
Stephanie Queen – He Has Santa: A second chance hockey romance.
Josie Riviera – A Chocolate Box Christmas Wish: He’s been all over the world. She’s a home-town girl. Can a holiday wish bridge the gap?
Mona Risk – Dalia’s Christmas Wish: Will the doctor make the right decision between an angry fiancée and a medical emergency?
Rachelle Ayala – Toy Soldier Christmas: Can a toy soldier make her wish come true?
Dani Haviland – A Plate of Christmas Cookies: Is it too much to ask for a second miracle?
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Susan Jean Ricci – Cruising for Mr. Right: Can a widow discover second chance romance aboard a Christmas cruise and make the right choice between two adoring men?
Alyssa Bailey – Christmas Wishes and You: Beth’s Christmas Wish of a Second Chance at Love could happen if only she would be willing to risk her heart… again.
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It’s a sunny day! Not a tremendously warm one, but I’ll take it. There’s snow in the forecast for tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll just get stuck with more rain. On the plus side, the grass is getting green. Allergies should be full blown within the week.

Today’s letter is the letter O. There are several words that come to mind for this in my writing: onomatopoeia, words that imitate sound, like bang, boom, crash, oxymoron, when two opposite words are used together like pretty ugly, and military intelligence, and omicron, as in the latest variant of the global pandemic. All three of these words have impacted my writing, some more than others.

Let’s consider omicron first. I made a conscious decision to include the pandemic and its impact on our lives in my writing. Depending on when the book was written, there are references to making, social distancing, closures, capacity limits, etc. I found it difficult to draft stories without including them because I don’t believe we’ll be going back to the old normal anytime soon. I still wear my mask when I go into stores. I’m uncomfortable and avoid crowded social situations and have yet to feel comfortable enough to resume in-person worship or travel outside the country. So, if you pick up a book authored by me during the last two years, chances are there will be refences to the pandemic in it. At the moment, Ontario, where I live, is in its sixth wave of the pandemic, thanks to the omicron variant.

The second o word I’ll discuss is onomatopoeia. Words that sound like the sound they make. I’ve used several in all my books. Anything from a sentence like, “Waves crashed against the shore.” or “The bell tinkled my arrival.” or even “I did the cha-ching dance when I looked at my bank balance. (Cha-ching being the sound made by a cash register.)

Finally, we’ll talk about oxymorons. These are contradictory terms used together for effect. Who hasn’t had a bittersweet moment? Have you ever ordered jumbo shrimp? What about discovering that something is your only option? Other examples include: awfully good, climb down, close distance, grow smaller, original copy, seriously funny, passive-aggressive, same difference, small crowd, and of course, virtual reality.

That’s it for O. Come back tomorrow for P. Check out the other O posts here. https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1nuoAOJ-BUAXE1Yl2yIArhUHInj902PHVX6_gL4oKiSo/edit#gid=1195767304

Well, I’m hoping for sunny skies, but I’ll settle for anything that isn’t wet. I haven’t put away my hat and gloves, so a little cold won’t hurt me, but I’m sick of snow and rain. I began a walking program mid-March when the weather got nice, and I’m trying valiantly to meet it each day, but the rain and snow haven’t helped.

Today’s letter is the letter N. To me, No stands for novella, novelette, and novel. For most people, when they think of any of those words, they immediately think fiction. Let’s start by looking at the shortest piece of fiction writing, the novelette.

A novelette is a piece of short prose fiction. Its closest relative is the short story. A standard short story can be anywhere from 1,000 to 7,500 words long. A novelette usually ranges from 7,500 and 17,499 words, inclusive. Not everyone enjoys reading something that short, but if you only have a limited amount of time and want to get from start to finish quickly, something with a little more meet to it than a short story, then the novelette might be for you. I do not currently have any novelettes.

What most readers want today isn’t a novel but a novella, also called a short novel. Its word range is from 17,500 to as high as 70,000 words, but most are between 40,000 and 60,000 words. My novellas include my Cocktails for You books, Prove It, a YA suspense novel, Twist of Fate, The Captain’s Promise, The Tigress and The Guardian, as well as my Winter Weddings books. Most of today’s contemporary romances fall into this category, but just to put things in perspective, Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange, John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men, Herman Melville’s Billy Budd, George Orwell’s Animal Farm, Truman Capote’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea, Robert Louis Stevenson’s Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine, Philip Roth’s Goodbye, Columbus, Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, and Jack Kerouac’s The Subterraneans are all considered novellas, not novels!

So what is a novel? A novel is a long narrative in literary prose. It contains prose passages and dialogue. It can even contain poetry. The novel traces its historical roots to both medieval and early modern romance and to the novella. The word ‘novel’ comes from that 18th century word.

To be considered a novel, a book usually contains more than 70,000 words. I have authored several novels, some with more than 150,000 words, like Desert Deception. Many of the older classic novels were much longer than that–think War and Peace, Doctor Zhivago, Gone with the Wind, The Lord of the Rings, or The Handmaid’s Tale. But what makes a novel an enjoyable book, one people will read again and again–or turn into movies, is the way in which the author creates reality in the unreal. The plot, the characters, and the use of language are all essential factors in a novel’s artistic merits. Believe it or not, these elements date back to the 16th and 17th centuries. For a novel to succeed, it must engage the reader on every level. Physical, intellectual, and emotional. Not every reader will like every novel. Readers and writers have individual tastes that show up in what they write or read. How about you? Which to you prefer? Novelette, novella, or novel?

Find more N posts here: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1nuoAOJ-BUAXE1Yl2yIArhUHInj902PHVX6_gL4oKiSo/edit#gid=1195767304

Already Friday. Where does the time go? I have a peeve this morning. Whose bright idea was it to put the elastic all the way around a fitted sheet? They were hard enough to fold when it was just the corners. Now, they’re impossible to do. I have balled up sheets in my linen cupboard. But enough about me!

Today’s letter is M. In my writing, M stands for memories. Many of my books contain memories–my own memories–which I’ve incorporated into the plots. Some memories are funny ones, like when I bring in words my granddaughter used to use, like “ahind” instead of behind, things they used to do, like tote around a queen-sided blanket as their blankie. One of them wore a Snow-White costume when we went camping and referred to herself as No Wipe. Then there was the incredibly long wait for a plane to Mexico in Tequila Sunrise, and the agony of having my hair streaked for the first time in Make Mine a Manhattan. Other memories are sad, like the miscarriage in Hello Again, or the sorrow in The Blue Dragon as we packed up my mother’s house and discovered that she was a tidy hoarder.

The most recent and complete memory can be found in Emerald Glow, the book I wrote after my anniversary trip aboard the Rocky Mountaineer.

She’s given up on finding the right man. After a painful divorce, he’s sworn off women. But you don’t always get what you want, especially when a typo can spell disaster.

Following a breakup that’s soured her opinion of men, photographer Lee Andrews is hoping this assignment for an online e-zine will help her set her life on the right path. If she can stay focused on her job and ignore the opposite sex, so much the better.
Alexander Fedorov is a burned-out journalist, tired of covering one disaster after another. His recent divorce has left him bitter and determined to stay as far away from the female sex as possible. This new assignment offers a change of pace. As long as he can avoid meddlesome females, he’ll be fine.
When they meet, sparks fly and personalities clash, especially when the full impact of a small typo and making assumptions makes itself known loud and clear. Both are determined to be adult about the situation, keep their distance, and complete the job. But that may be easier said than done, especially when the attraction they feel for each other is magnetic. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09PRPZBKZ

Writing about a place I’ve been and describing something I’ve seen and done adds excitement to the writing task for me and I hope in increases the readers enjoyment since I can be detailed and specific about the places I’ve visited.

So, that’s my M word for today. Check out the other M posts here https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1nuoAOJ-BUAXE1Yl2yIArhUHInj902PHVX6_gL4oKiSo/edit#gid=1195767304

As a child, did you sing: “Rain, rain go away?” I did and I feel like doing it again today! Dreary skies are depressing, but we must think positive. This too will end. It will be warm and sunny, flowers will bloom, and life will go on. So many people have it worse than I do. What’s a little rain?

Today’s letter is the letter L. To me in my writing, L stands for Litotes. I can hear you right now saying, litotes? What the heck are those? Litotes are a figure of speech using understatement as a rhetorical device. This is done by using the negative to mean the opposite, and believe it or not, we do it all the time. Yes, that’s right. Even you do it.

How many times have you said, “not bad” about something that was good? Not bad can mean anything from so-so to excellent. Another example might be, I don’t hate it, when what you really mean is you like it or you’re undecided. Litotes are deliberate understatements used for emphasis, with the interpretation of the negation depending on the context, intonation, and emphasis. It may also depend on the generation. For example, what was cool to me, might be sick to someone else.

That’s it. Come back tomorrow for more. Check out the other posts here. https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1nuoAOJ-BUAXE1Yl2yIArhUHInj902PHVX6_gL4oKiSo/edit#gid=1195767304

“It’s raining again … Isn’t that a line form a song? I’m sure it is, but the fact is, as nice as it was yesterday, with a high of 17 C, it’s down to 5 C and raining again. Makes it hard to find joy in going out for a walk, but, hey, I’m not the Wicked Witch of the West. I may not melt. We’ll just have to see.

Today’s blog challenge letter is K. I’ll admit I struggled with this letter as it applies to my writing and was torn between killer instinct and kids–children, not baby goats.

I opted to go with both, and you’ll see why in a second. Killer instinct is defined as an aggressive, tenacious urge for domination in a struggle to attain a set goal. In some ways, I possess a killer instinct when it comes to my work. I’m determined to the point of obsession to provide the best possible story for my readers. I weight each word, each scene carefully to make sure it provides the visual impact I want for my readers. This is especially true as it related to my suspense novels and The Harvester Files series.

Each book’s focus is on finding a serial killer. In the first three, there are children missing, children who must be found, and our heroes and heroines will stop at nothing to kind them. Their killer instincts are focused on putting an end to a vicious cult leader and his evil plans, recovering the missing children, and finding love amid horror. In the fourth book, the newest one in the series, while the hero and heroine are as focused as before and once again there are children missing, this time, they also need to find and stop the original cult leader’s son, as insane as his father was, and even more dangerous, as he seeks to finish what his father started.

Killer instinct is more than a kill or be killed mentality. It’s an inborn need to see things through to the end, no matter what, and the only logical conclusion for anyone is success. You can find all the books in the Harvester Files series on my websitehttps://mhsusannematthews.ca/

That’s it for today. Do you have a killer instinct?

Find more K posts here. https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1nuoAOJ-BUAXE1Yl2yIArhUHInj902PHVX6_gL4oKiSo/edit#gid=1195767304

Welcome back! The day’s not starting out well, more of those April showers, but the afternoon is promising. I’ve got my fingers crossed for a nice weekend even though the current long-term forecast is for rain.

Today’s letter is the letter J. In my writing, J stands for juxtaposition, a big fancy fifty cent word which means placing two things side by side so as to highlight their differences. As a rule, it’s used for rhetorical purposes. Writers juxtapose opposite elements frequently: wealth and poverty, beauty and ugliness, or darkness and light.

The prize for best example of juxtaposition in literature goes to Charles Dickens and A Tale of Two Cities.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

I quoted the master in my contemporary romance Same Time Next Year, an All for Love novel which juxtaposes two stories, Twyla’s memoir of the summer of 1967 and her life fifty years later. Here’s the blurb.

A novel within a novel. For three short weeks, Twyla Lancaster was the fairy tale princess who’d found her prince, but just like that, reality ripped them apart. Now, fifty years later, she needs to know why the only man she ever loved broke his promises. As she writes her memoir and learns more about that summer, she realizes things were not what they seemed. Hormones raced, promises were made, but Twyla left Michael Morrison high and dry, and within weeks, married someone else. Grieving the loss of his parents and her betrayal, he turned his back on love, focusing on his military career. Now, goaded by his sister, he agrees to attend a wedding and reunion, knowing Twyla will be there. It’s time to find out why she lied to him all those years ago. The moment the star-crossed lovers see one another, love blooms between them, but when Michael discovers Twyla’s secret, he’s devastated. Is love enough to erase fifty years of pain and betrayal?

You can find buy links to this book and others on my website. https://mhsusannematthews.ca/

Other excellent examples of juxtaposition belong to President John F. Kennedy in his quotes “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country,” and “Let us never negotiate out of fear but let us never fear to negotiate.”

Many of the proverbs I use in my writing are also examples of juxtaposition. Here are a few I’ve used over the years.

What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.

When it rains, it pours.

All’s fair in love and war.

Better late than never.

Beggars can’t be choosers.

Making a mountain out of a molehill.

When the cat’s away the mice will play.

You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

Do you use juxtaposition? I’ll bet you do, and you didn’t even know it. Check out the other J posts here.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1nuoAOJ-BUAXE1Yl2yIArhUHInj902PHVX6_gL4oKiSo/edit#gid=1195767304

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. I’m starting a new story, and it’s always fitting to start it with a picture as the prompt. The story is called, Trouble with Eden, and it will be part of my All for Love Series. Picture prompt scenes are limited to 300 words. Here’s the picture I selected.

Enjoy!

The sounds of sirens roused him. Had he passed out? Where was his phone? …

“Get a collar on him.” Hands fiddled around his neck. “Mr. Rivers, can you hear me?”

He cracked open an eye and stared into the paramedic’s face. “Yes.”

“Good. We’re going to get you out of here and transport you to the hospital. I’m going to cover your face while the firemen get the door open.”

He tried to nod, but the collar made it impossible to move his head. Instead, he closed his eyes again.

The screeching sound of metal filled his ears. Within seconds, someone had extricated him from the car and placed him on his back on a gurney.

“My car … I need the stuff in my car,” he muttered.

“Don’t worry about anything. The tow truck’s here. You can get whatever you need from the service station once you’re released from the hospital.”

“Which service station?” There couldn’t only be one in town

“Hang on. The man moved a few feet away, He turned his head to follow his movements. A tow truck was backing towards the rear of his vehicle. Someone jumped out—a man with long, blond hair, pulled into a ponytail and yanked through the opening of his ball cap. The man was slight—must be just out of his teens.

“E J, where you taking this one?”

“Hey, Carl. It’s a Mercedes. Only place I can take it is Frampton’s in Westboro. I’ve already notified them, and someone will meet me there. Guy okay?”

The tow truck driver’s voice was higher pitched than the medic’s. It had to be the injury he’d sustained; otherwise, he would swear that it was a woman’s voice. Whoever heard of a lady tow truck driver?

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales