I had a stunning realization this morning: I realized that Thanksgiving is only a little more than a week away! And Black Friday is just the day after! And, of the approximately 14 million gifts I have to get before Christmas arrives I have exactly two (2). But fortunately, this time of year is also season of Holiday Fairs and this year, I'm going to have tables at two of them! So if you're also looking to fill a few stockings (and my books fit in them pretty well), here's where you can find me and get an autographed copy:

Saturday, November 21: Holly Days Fair and Kindle Sale,
I'll be at Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal Parish, Hampton, NH, for their annual holiday fair, with both copies of my books, PLUS the Kindle versions of both Necessary Evil and Summer Shadows will be on sale, so pick up an e-version too, while you're at it and be sure to tell all your friends!

Saturday, December 12th: Annual Women's Civic Club Christmas Fair,
I'll be at the Atkinson (NH) Community Center, where not only can you find my books, but also tons of handmade goodies, like candies, soaps, and wood carvings. 

If you happen to be at either fair, be sure to stop by my table and say hi!

Plus, it looks as though I may be involved in an awesome Facebook event, along with a slew of other fantastic authors. Be sure to stay tuned for that, too!​​

Have a great week, everyone! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find some turkey and a recipe book...

It's Monday. And for many people, it's day two of the Nanowrimo, a month long writing challenge that has many authors scrambling to complete 50,000 words in a month. Its quite a trick to do, especially when you have a real job, a family, a social life, and two major holidays around the corner!

To all you Nanowrimo writers, best of luck! To everyone else who's dealing with the Monday Blues, here's a bit of wisdom from our old friend, Joseph Conrad, taken from his masterpiece, Heart of Darkness.

This series attempts to answer the age-old question: read the book? Or watch the movie?
 
The Subject: Last of the Mohicans
The Book: By James Fenimore Cooper, released in 1826, the second book in the Leatherstocking Tales.
The Movie: the 1992 film, starring Daniel Day-Lewis and Madeleine Stowe (we’ll leave Hawkeye, the TV show starring Lee Horsley and Lynda Carter, for another column)
 
The Plot:
In 1757, during the French and Indian Wars, two young women, Cora and Alice, brave wilderness, warring tribes, betrayal, and brutal warfare in order to reach their father, Colonel Munroe. Guided by Major Duncan Heyward, they are betrayed by the treacherous Magua and rescued by the intrepid Hawkeye, and the last of the Mohican tribe, Uncas and Chingachcook. But their troubles are only just beginning.
 
The Comparison: (Note: Spoilers ahead)
If it weren’t the archaic language, Mohicans, the book, is the sort of adventure story that every boy would want to read. It starts with the two women, Duncan, and Magua, separating from British troops to attempt to find a safer path through the forest, only to be betrayed by their guide. Hawkeye (AKA: Nathaniel Bumpo), and the two Mohicans find them and are soon convinced to guide them through the forest. What follows is a heart pounding chase, filled with narrow escapes, shoot-outs, show-downs, and near-death experiences. When they finally make it to the fort, they find it is under siege. Colonel Monroe parlays with the French leaders and negotiates a peaceful withdrawal from the fort, only to be betrayed by the tribes, lead by Magua, who attack the departing troops. Magua seizes Alice and Cora and the chase begins again, leading Hawkeye, Duncan, the Mohicans, and Munroe deep into upper New York’s wilderness and into the heart of the hostile tribes. Through it all, there are brave speeches, noble stands, brutal violence, and surprising twists to keep the action moving along. While the narrative drags here and there, and there is some silliness, by the time I was done, I could well understand why Mohicans was such a huge hit when it came out. Cooper had written an action epic.

Mohicans, the movie, shifts the action somewhat – the beginning chase is much shorter, for instance, and some of the events from the first part of the book are moved to the second. But the biggest change is the focus: while the book is an action flick with the feel of an Alistair McLean gone early English lit, the movie plays more like an epic romance, complete with breathless romantic tension, epic declarations of love, and an Enya soundtrack. While it maintained some of the book’s action and definitely it’s brutality (the attack on the troops is devastating and almost frightening to watch), the movie is clearly about relationships – and in particular, Hawkeye (Nathaniel Poe here) and the dark-eyed Cora.

Daniel Day-Lewis is not the Hawkeye of the novel. In the movie, he is young, strong, silent, smoldering, and his chemistry with Stowe is hot enough to call for fire extinguishers, almost too good to be true. In book, Hawkeye’s a middle-aged (maybe mid-thirties, so middle-aged for the time) braggart, who knows the lay of the land, how to spin a good story, and has a deep hatred and respect for the ‘skulking Mingoes’ (Magua’s tribe). He’s a little too loud, a little too rugged, a little too honest, and a little too proud, and I absolutely loved him – I could clearly see how Cooper could write a series about him.

Cora was awesome in both the book and the movie: strong, steely-eyed, and determined to see her sister and herself through all trials. In the movie, she is proposed to by Duncan, who eventually gives his life for her when he sees that she prefers Hawkeye. In the book, Duncan is in love with Alice (who is pretty much the same wilting personality as in the movie), and while Cora has earned Hawkeye’s respect and admiration, but it isn’t the scout who falls in love with her, but Uncas, the son of Chingachcook and the pride of the Seven Nations – for good reason.
 
Conclusion: Read the book
The book is an epic adventure and as much as I liked the movie, the book was much more entertaining and had a more complete ending – when the movie ends, they are still standing in the middle of the woods, probably out of ammunition, and still completely surrounded by hostile tribes. In Cooper’s book, there is a truce and he is careful to show that even the worst of their enemies (Magua excepted) are reasonable human beings worthy of dignity. You’ll have to get through some language, but I thought the book was really good fun and, besides, you’ve already seen the movie, haven’t you?

Agree? Disagree? Hate both movie and book? Leave your opinion in the comments below!

Writing a novel is sometimes like going on a trip: you have a rough idea of what to pack and what you're going to see, but you never know for sure.

In a few weeks, Necessary Evil will launch and I cannot wait for you to read it! It's got romance, danger, buried treasure, Modern-day mixing with the Civil War (side note: the war was anything but Civil - I prefer the wordier War Between the States title), and just a dash of darkness. I figured I'd like writing this book (I did) and I knew I'd learn alot (I did), but what I didn't expect was how much the research for this book would effect me.

In preparing to write, I studied New Hampshire's involvement in the Civil War, especially the town of Chester, where the book is based, and I even learned a little about the origins of the statue that stands so proudly in the center of my town. Mostly I read letters - lots of letters, letters to and from soldiers and their wives, sisters, brothers, fathers, mothers, and other loved ones. They ranged from heartbreaking to hilarious, and spoke of everything from problems on the farm and on the battlefield to declarations of love and prayers for a safe return. Men worried about their families, women worried about their husbands, and children grew up missing one or both parents - and sometimes the other way around. 

Reading those letters made the participants feel real and present, and I was amazed at how modern their words seemed to be. Some of them could have been written today, with almost no alterations, and sent from Afghanistan or Iraq. The sentiments were the same. While some of the soldiers boasted of this or that feat, most of them just wanted the killing to end and peace to return. It put a human heart, so to speak, into the granite Chester soldier, and a story behind all those veterans laying quietly buried in my hometown.

Times and wars and places change - but humans and families are still very much the same.

From Necessary Evil, launching August 2015:



“Your treasure hunt,” I corrected. “Be honest about it and listen to me. There. Is. No. Treasure. There never was.”

As soon as I said it, I recognized the slip of the tongue and, sure enough, Professor Randall caught it.

“That’s not what Beaumont said in his letter,” he pointed out.

“So you’ve read the Beaumont letter?”

“Yes.”

“Then what else do you want?” I exploded. “The man came out and said that the ‘treasure’ was lost in gambling dens all up and down the coast. There is no treasure.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Don’t believe it? Don’t believe the Beaumont letter?”

Randall looked at me inquisitively. Softly, almost in a whisper, he said, “No. I don’t believe it.”

There was something menacing in his tone, and I threw up my hands again, desperate to look only exasperated and not frightened. “Look, it doesn’t even matter – save yourself some heartache and backache, Mr. Randall, and listen to me: there is no treasure on Chase Farm. There never has been. You’re on a fool’s errand that’s ruined better men than you.”

“You mean,” he said, in the same soft tone, “that it ruined Michael Chase.”

For the second time today, my uncle’s end had been thrown in my face for effect. Now fury replaced fear. If he wanted a fireworks display, I could oblige.

“That does it!”

I grabbed the door knob and threw the door wide open. It bounced against the wall and nearly rebounded on me. I whirled on him and pointed at the doorway, but Randall hadn’t moved. My display of temper didn’t do anything more than make the set expression on his face even more firm. 

 “That,” I hissed. “Is enough. You get out of my house, Randall. Get out now, or I swear, I will call the police.”

There was another moment of quiet, so deep, so still, that it was frightening in and of itself. Randall - for all his peculiarities, his snobbish, particular exterior - looked so calm, so still that for a moment I thought, I’ve won. He’s leaving.

Just as I completed the thought, he leaned in. His dark eyes bored into mine, and I repressed a shiver.

“Tell me, Warwick,” he asked, ever so softly. “Did that letter achieve its purpose? Has it stopped anybody from digging on your land?”

 My mouth went dry and I leaned back against the wall, struggling to ask, “What are you talking about?”

Again, the look of feigned innocence. “The Beaumont letter. You published it in the local and national papers to ward off further trespassers. After all, the death of your uncle wouldn’t have been enough to stop them, not when they’re caught in the throes of gold fever.” His head tilted, almost sympathetically. “His death – it almost destroyed you, didn’t it?” 

Ridiculous, I thought, angry at myself for a moment. He doesn’t know anything.

But my hands were shaking.

Randall said, in a tone that was almost sympathetic, “The letter hasn’t stopped them, has it? There aren’t legitimate hunters any more, but the amateurs are worse, aren’t they? Amateurs who are willing to trespass don’t tend to enclose their sites or post warning signs. I bet you’re still finding exploratory holes scattered about the place. Every once in a while, you or one of your staff come across a stranger with a metal detector and have to drive them off with threats about the police. But they’ve caught the scent and they won’t stop until their thirst is quenched. The Beaumont letter hasn’t really solved the problem, has it?”

I swallowed hard. He was right, absolutely right. The Beaumont letter had cut back on the incursions, but not nearly enough.

“You must have been so disappointed,” he said.

“All right!” I snapped, my voice shaking. “All right, I’ll admit it – we published it to stop the intruders. I thought it would help, but it didn’t and they still come. Not as bad as before, but they come. People will insist on believing in Santa Claus as long as they think they can get something out of it. It didn’t work and I’ll admit it. Now will you go?”

I gestured towards the door, but Professor Randall didn’t move. He studied me for a long moment, his dark, fathomless eyes roaming my face, searching for I knew not what. 

I didn’t care what he saw. He had managed to touch that which should be left alone, and I was through with being his emotional puppet. I was ready for whatever weapon he cared to throw at me.

I thought I was prepared. 

 “If I were you, I’d get your money back.”

His voice was soft, even, gentle, but the words struck me as forcibly as arrows from a crossbow. My mouth went dry, my heart slowed to almost a stop. The dreadful calm I felt as I faced him, wide-eyed and an easy target, was almost as frightening as the look of certainty in his eyes.

How does he know?

I stammered. “What are you talking about?”

He sighed and lowered himself back down onto the couch, draping his clasped hands over the armrest. Then he fixed me with that dark-eyed stare again.

“I’m talking about the letter you forged,” he said.

Being a New Englander, you knew I had to come to Thoreau sometime...

Moving forward requires letting go and Dream-Catching requires courage and tenacity. We are capable of all these things. Go forth and live your dream. Make Thoreau proud.

By Christoph Fischer

When Greta Weissensteiner of the sleepy town of Bratslava in Czechoslovakia, falls for a Berliner bookseller, little does she know just how much her life is going to change. The Weissensteiner family has always been lucky, using their Aryan name to balance against the prejudice against their Jewish faith. But as their society starts to disintegrate and war begins, can their luck hold?

The first novel in the Three Nations Trilogy pulls you into a world gone mad. The Weissensteiners’ comfortable life as congenial outsiders begins to crumble as Nazism takes hold, forcing the family to make compromises, compromises that are not enough when World War II starts. The book follows Greta, an idealistic young Jewess whose Aryan husband takes her son and deserts her for Berlin, her stoic father and fragile sister Wilma, their extended family, and the eccentric aristocrats that try to shelter them. Fischer walks you through each loss, following the family as they are forced underground, lose their business, friends, members of their family, and then finally each other. But the real test of the famous Weissensteiner luck begins when the war ends.

Much care went into the research behind this book and the historical data is relayed in news bulletins that seem frighteningly current. But despite the horrors and cruelty of time, which Fischer never shies from, the overall message is that, no matter how chaotic the world is, good people can still be found and family is worth sacrificing for. The luck of the Weissensteiner family will not save them from the ravages of war, but their faith in and love of each other may just be enough to see them through it.

A Conversation with my Inner-Self
Me: I have minutely examined my life, ruthlessly evaluated it, and have composed this list of Writing Resolutions for 2015. By following this regime, I will be a new person by this time next year!
Inner-Self: Strange: I feel as though you've said that before.
Me: Well, maybe, but this year, it'll come true, you'll see. I'll be unstoppable, a disciplined machine, the envy of all, and a force to be reckoned with.
Inner-Self: I've heard that before! Look, I'm all for your improvement-
Me: Hey!
Inner-Self: ...but you do have this habit of raising the bar way too high. Moderation and temperance and constancy will gain you a lot more ground, you know.
Me: All right, Ms. Self-Doubt, I'll admit I was over-zealous in the past. Maybe. A little. But this year is different. Take a look at these and you'll see.

1. Resolve: Write 2000 Words per day
Reasoning: Real Authors write consistently and regularly, producing solid content at a steady rate. I could do worse that to follow their example.
Inner-Self: Yup. Because you were a totally sane and productive person during NaNoWriMo two years ago, when you were writing 1600 words a day and trying to beat a deadline. And how much of that book are you still re-writing? Instead, try for a weekly goal and good content, rather than merely more content.

2. Resolve: Read Only Classics
Reasoning: All writers know that reading more makes you a better writer. Since the goal is to be the best, surely limiting myself to only classics will make me the best. After all, garbage in, garbage out, right? Henceforth, only classics for me!
Inner-Self: Okay, I'll admit the logic on this one. But do you seriously think you're going to be able to give up Star Trek novels and those lame Christian romances that you've been reading since you were ten? That'd be like asking you to stop watching flopped lame TV shows that star Roddy McDowall, ('Planet of the Apes' and 'Fantastic Journey', for instance). We both know that isn't going to happen, so instead, resolve to incorporate more classics into your reading diet, rather than an exclusive classic curricula. 

3. Resolve: Less Chocolate, More Cardio
Reasoning: A healthy body is a healthy mind and with more of my time being devoted to sitting behind a screen, it is necessary to make health more of a priority. Therefore, I am cutting chocolate and embracing the workout outfit - I will be a new, fitter me by the end of February.
Inner-Self: Again, I'll admit the logic of this resolution, but you left out something important: you turn into a bear if you don't get your daily chocolate fix. By all means, workout and cut the cheese and bacon from your diet, but for the sake of your family, friends, and business associates, keep the chocolate, okay?

4. Resolve: Start the Day Right
Reasoning: Early morning is the best part of the day: quiet, peaceful, and woefully underused by yours truly. I therefore resolve to get up at the crack of dawn every morning, jog for twenty minutes before eating a healthy breakfast, then buckling down to writing before getting to work on time. No more late nights spent watching 'Dark Shadows' or 'Fantasy Island': I will become the proverbial Early Bird.
Inner-Self: (gleeful, uncontrollable laughter)

I was going to write a brilliant blog post today. It was full of pathos, and humanity, and a contained thoughtful message on the world as it is today.

I really ought to write it, but I ran out of time. I was too busy discovering that there are at least ten ways to avoid writing a blog post. And since I like to share my findings, I’ve written a list of my ten favorite ways to avoid writing a blog post:

1.       Sleep in late: Because you’re tired. And you’ve been working late. And it’s cozy in your bed. Another five minutes won’t kill you. And so on...

2.       Checking your Facebook page: Because finding out how many ‘likes’ your new selfie album got is absolutely essential to your well-being.

3.       Call a friend: It doesn’t matter that you’re going to see them tomorrow night, that you saw them yesterday, that you’ve got nothing new to talk about since you chatted online this morning. Friends come first.

4.       Sort your socks: Because you need to find them in a hurry in the morning, especially after you’ve slept in late. (See #1)

5.       Stare into space: You’re a writer, which means you’re probably also an introvert. This is how we think. No, it is not wasting time. No, it is not daydreaming. Or if it is, it is absolutely necessary for the creative process. Absolutely. Ask anyone.

6.       Re-arrange your book-shelves: Have fun and experiment. Put them in order of author, by color, publication date, by length, by height, by font styles…

7.       Surf Youtube: You know those cat videos everyone talks about about? They actually are as funny as they say!

8.       Scroll through other people’s Facebook page: Because nothing is more motivating (i. e. depressing) than seeing how much cooler everyone’s life is than yours. Which leads us to:

9.       Clean out your freezer: by which I mean, eat all the ice cream in it. Having ice cream in your freezer will lead you into temptation, so cut temptation off at the pass.

10.   Look up random things on the internet: Because you’re learning new things and that’s good for you. For instance, did you know that there are 1000 different varieties of bananas? That they are considered herbs, not fruits? That 5 billion tons of bananas are eaten in Britain each year? That if you hold a banana on its side, it looks like a sun-shiny smile? Now you do. That’s the power of a Google search. You’re welcome.