A New Opening for Gram & Me!

Reader Comments Matter

Gram & Me changes again! Thanks to the eye-opening comments of a friend who is not afraid to provide an honest critique, I have revised the opening pages of Gram & Me. The book is written from two points of view (POV), Sarah and her “Gram”, Marian. The first chapter is in Sarah’s POV. I’m interested in any and all comments any readers have!

“Tomorrow morning my parents and my baby brother, Christopher, and I were going back to Washington State, where we lived. We visited Gram and Gramps for three weeks every summer. They lived in a city in upstate New York called Saratoga Springs. They made our visits fun and busy, doing things we didn’t do at home. When we weren’t out and about, I loved snuggling with my soft and warm Gram on the couch, wrapped up in a thick, cozy afghan cocoon on a rainy, chilly night, watching a movie and eating popcorn. Gramps was a jokester. His eyes had a mischievous gleam. His half-grin let me know when he was goofing, and I laughed inside and outside every time he joked with me.

That last night, my vacation friend Allison, who was also eight years old, and I were coloring in the family room. Allison’s grandma lived next door to Gram, and her mother was my mom’s best friend in high school. The family room was adjacent to the kitchen. We were lying on the braided rug in front of the brick fireplace. Christopher, my four-month-old baby brother, was asleep in his car seat, which doubled as a bed when we weren’t in the car. There was no fire in the fireplace because it was summer.

I wasn’t really eavesdropping–I was just within view and earshot. The grown-ups seemed to think us little kids were in our own world, not paying any attention to the adults. It wasn’t completely dark outside, because I could still see the barbecue grill that Gramps had cooked the chicken on for dinner. It was on the patio through the sliding glass doors. Leftover smells of our dinner and strawberry pie dessert lingered in the air. The adults sat around the dining table drinking coffee and talking – Gram, Gramps, Mom, Dad, Allison’s mom, Mrs. Maxwell, and Gram’s neighbor, Mrs. Callahan, who was Allison’s grandmother.

“It can’t come fast enough for me,” Gram was saying. “Your dad’s been retired for two years already. In just four days and—“she looked at her watch “—twenty-one hours I will be officially retired.” She wore a huge grin, her eyes were bright, and she looked happy. She tucked a lock of silvery hair behind one ear, revealing one of the diamond stud earrings Gramps gave her on their fortieth anniversary, which they celebrated the first weekend of our visit. “We can’t wait to hit the road. First thing on our bucket list is a cross country trip. No timetable. No commitments dragging us back here. Just pure freedom to explore the country for as long as we want.”

“What about the house?” Mom asked. “Won’t you worry about leaving it vacant?”

Gram waved away the question.

“It’s going on the market the day Marian retires,” Gramps explained. “We don’t dare list it before then, because properties are selling too fast around here. Everybody wants to move to Saratoga.”

“You’re selling the house?” Mom looked horrified. “But where will you go when you’re done traveling?”

“We’ll get an apartment,” Gram said, shrugging. “No hassles of homeownership. For the first time in our adult lives, we want to be free of all responsibilities. Maybe that will change after a while and we will want to buy something. But right now–” she sighed “—I can’t think of a more perfect and relaxing way to live.”

“But you’ll get bored,” Mom whined. “You’ve never been one to be idle. You won’t be happy!”

“Watch us. And who said we’ll be idle?” Gram wore that knowing smile that always made me feel safe. Like she could control anything and make bad things disappear. “We’ll just be doing only what we choose to do, when we choose to do it.” Hands out, palms up, slight shrug. “What could be closer to heaven?”

Gram’s announcement worried me a little. Where would we visit them when the house was sold? It sort of felt like home away from home here—would I miss it? But Gram and Gramps made a fun adventure out of everything. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t matter where they lived.

xxxxxxxx

We had to get up and on the road very early on our good-bye morning, to drop off the rental car and check in at the airport. Gram fixed cereal for me while Mommy and Daddy finished packing upstairs. Christopher slept through it all.

“Who’s going to eat the Fruit Loops after you’re gone,” Gram asked me, settling into a chair across the table.

I was too sleepy to answer. But I grinned and shrugged and stuffed another spoonful into my mouth. We never had Fruit Loops at home. Mommy said they were no better than eating candy for breakfast. But almost anything was okay when we visited Gram and Gramps.

“Keep an eye on your brother while we load the car,” Mommy told me. “And go to the bathroom before we get on the road.” She sipped from a coffee cup on the table and wrinkled her nose. “Cold. Guess I left it sitting too long.”

“Go finish loading,” Gram told her. “I’ll heat it up and put it in a travel mug for you.”

Mommy smiled at Gram.

A little while later, Daddy came and said it was time to go.

“Did you use the bathroom?” Mommy asked me as she picked up Christopher. “We’re not making any bathroom stops between here and the airport.”

I nodded, and we all followed Mommy and Daddy out the front door. Daddy hooked the car seat into the car and strapped Christopher in. We all kissed Gram and Gramps goodbye. Gramps hugged me extra tight, lifting me off the ground, making me giggle. Eyes twinkling, he said, “I’m going to miss my favorite granddaughter.”

“Aw, Gramps,” I said, grinning and touching his cheek, “I’m your only granddaughter.”

“Hmm, I believe you’re right about that.” He winked and lowered me to the ground.

After one last hug with Gram and Gramps, I climbed into the car and buckled up.

Daddy backed the car out of the driveway and headed toward the interstate that would take us to the airport.

It wasn’t very light out yet. The sky in the east was bands of yellow and pink above the horizon. There was just enough light to pick out car colors, so Daddy asked me if I wanted to count blue cars. We always started with blue, because there aren’t many purple cars. Purple is my favorite color, but blue is closest.

There weren’t many cars of any color so early in the morning. I watched as each one approached either from behind or on the other side of the highway.

“I need to get off at this exit,” Daddy said, steering the car toward the exit lane. “We’re low on gas, and the rental place will charge a premium to fill the tank.”

I was at three blue cars and about to call out four when Daddy yelled and pounded the steering wheel.

“Geezum, what’s that jerk doing? He wants half of our lane!”

Blue car number four was almost even with us when it swerved again. Daddy said some bad words as the car hit us. Our car zigzagged, and then we were flying over an embankment. I didn’t think cars could fly. It turned out, they can’t. As we dropped, my stomach felt like it did on my first roller coaster ride.

The car crashed into the side of the steep hill. Christopher woke up, crying. Daddy’s seat rushed toward me, and I felt a horrible pain in my left leg. Daddy and Mommy’s airbags blew up in their faces, and the car filled with a burning smell. I thought the car was going to explode, like on television.

The car kept moving, but on its side, where there were no wheels, and then it hit something and toppled, rear over front. I put my arm out to brace myself and felt another sharp pain in my arm and my tummy and then in my head, as the car continued tumbling two, maybe three times. Through the cracked windshield I saw a stand of trees coming at us fast. A bright light flashed, and then there was nothing.

I don’t know how much time passed. I heard sirens. It was hard to open my eyes. Daddy and Mommy and Christopher were sleeping. I wanted to sleep, too. I hurt everywhere.

Then everything went black again, and the pain went away.”

I will look forward to your comments!

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WHERE TO POST: WEBSITE OR SEPARATE BLOG?

There are many days when I wish I were more tech savvy.

Take my current blog dilemma, for example. For several years, I had an independent blog on WordPress. It linked to some social media sites, and my website had a link that allowed visitors to go to my blog from the website. It worked okay – what do I know?

But then I used a new web designer who did a marvelous job of creating a website that matched the vision in my head. He also convinced me to include my blog as a page on my website. It seemed reasonable enough, and in many ways made posting easier, although the social media links had to be done manually.

So enter the WordPress Blogging 101 course, and the way it’s begun opening my eyes to new possibilities…except many of the ideas don’t work if my blog is on my website. For example, I can’t create a different theme for my blog without it changing everything else on the website. Which I do not want to do, because I like my website!

So I talked to my web designer, who said I could go back to using my old WordPress site. And sure enough, I was able to do that, although all of the posts I wrote on my website are not there, so it looks like I’ve been very delinquent in posting. (So, apologies to all of the people who are followers on my mtnwriter77 blog post – I didn’t realize you were not being notified of any of my posts since last October).

So then my lack of tech savvy struck again, because I tried changing my theme and title, and up popped this opportunity for a new (free) domain name that matched my new theme, and I jumped on it. But then I began to wonder if it would eliminate this one, since I’m only allowed one free domain name. So, just in case that happens, while this site still exists I will tell you the other site is JustWriteIt.live. Seriously, I have no idea if that’s a new blog site or if it might be a new website address.

Are you beginning to sense the depth and breadth of my ignorance and the potential to self-destruct?

All this because I wanted to do the Blogging 101 assignment. I think I need a lunch break – maybe that will open my mind to the possibilities.

PS: if any of my followers wish to check out the posts that didn’t show up here, they can be found at my website.

 

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Did you know? Amazon has Several Publishing Options. Not just KDP.

Aspiring authors and those with completed works often ask me about publishing options. In addition to the options I’ve described in past posts, Amazon offers a range of options. My thanks to Chris McMullen for such a comprehensive summary of those, and allowing me to share them with my readers.

chrismcmullen's avatarchrismcmullen

Image from ShutterStock Image from ShutterStock

PUBLISHING WITH AMAZON

There are at least a half dozen different ways to publish a book with Amazon.

Most people think of Kindle Direct Publishing, but that’s just one of many options:

  • Amazon has multiple imprints, such as 47 North. However, like most major traditional publishers, Amazon Publishing does not accept unsolicited manuscript submissions.
  • Another way to publish with Amazon as your “publisher” is through the new Kindle Scout program. This option is based on reader voting, not solely on an editor’s decision.
  • For those who would like to write fan fiction, there is Kindle Worlds.
  • Kindle Singles is a competitive publishing option for certain kinds of shorter Kindle e-books.
  • Anyone can self-publish with Amazon using Kindle Direct Publishing.
  • You can also self-publish a paperback book with Amazon using CreateSpace.
  • The Audiobook Creation Exchange (ACX) lets you publish an audiobook that will be available through Amazon.

AMAZON…

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PROGRESS WITH GRAM AND ME

A while back I shared the opening paragraphs of Gram and Me, my newest novel. I promised more as progress was made. I’m actually approaching 20,000 words, but here’s more of a taste of Chapter One:

We–my family and I–lived in Washington State. We visited Gram and Gramps for three weeks every summer. I loved being with Gram and Gramps. My gram was a happy woman. I knew nothing about her past, but whatever life sent her, she managed to shape it into a something safe and comfortable. I loved snuggling with her on the couch–she was soft and warm–wrapped up in a thick, cozy afghan cocoon on a rainy, chilly night, watching a movie and eating popcorn. But it was even better when she did the wrapping and then held me snugly against her. Gramps was a jokester. His eyes had a mischievous twinkle. His half-grin let me know when he was goofing, and I laughed every time he joked with me.

My other grandparents – my dad’s parents – were out of the picture. I don’t know why for sure. I guess it was some kind of family secret. I know I never met them, at least not since I was old enough to remember. But I heard my parents talking about them before Christopher was born. I guess they figured I wouldn’t understand what they were saying or something, because I was right there at the kitchen desk, playing on the computer.

“I don’t want them to know we’re having another child,” Dad was saying. “They are nothing but trouble. Next thing you know they’ll be on our doorstep expecting us to take them in. Remember how they tried that after Sarah was born? I escaped them and made my way through college and life on my own. Let’s leave it like that.”

“It doesn’t seem right,” Mom said. “Your mother’s not so bad. We sort of bonded when they camped out here that one week. Don’t they have a right to know their grandchildren?”

“My father’s certifiable. God only knows why my mother stays with him, given what he does to her on a regular basis, but that is her choice. I don’t trust him, and by association, I don’t trust her.”

“But–.”

“The subject is closed.”

“Oh, really? Since when do I take orders from you? Does talking about your father turn you into him? Well, I’m not your mother, and we make decisions mutually.”

Dad didn’t say anything for a while. I didn’t dare turn to see if he was still there, because they might figure out I was listening. Finally, I heard him let out a big breath.

“Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. I just worry so much about their snaking their way into our lives. And trust me, they might be able to hold it together for a week. But you really don’t want them around our kids alone. Ever. Please promise me you won’t let that happen.”

I’m guessing Mom nodded, because I didn’t hear her say yes, but the conversation ended. And Christopher was born and there was no visit from my dad’s parents.

Because we had visited Gram and Gramps for three weeks before the accident, they weren’t the strangers they might have been, living so far away. In a way, I might have known too much about them. At least, I knew enough to think they might not be too happy about having me dropped in their laps.

On the night before we were to head home, my friend Allison, who was also eight years old, and I were coloring in the family room. Allison’s grandma lived next door to Gram and her mother was my mom’s best friend in high school. The family room was adjacent to the kitchen, where the adults were finishing dinner. We were lying on the braided rug in front of the brick fireplace. Christopher, my four-month-old baby brother, was asleep in his car seat, which doubled as a bed when we weren’t in the car. There was no fire in the fireplace because it was summer. Gramps did light it one rainy night, and we roasted marshmallows and made s’mores. He said they were called that because every time you eat one you want “some more.” And then he winked at me as the other adults moaned. I think maybe it was an old joke for them.

I wasn’t really eavesdropping–I was just within view and earshot. Grown-ups seem to think little kids are in their own world, not paying any attention to the adults. But we’re not. The combined kitchen/dining area was so brightly lit, we didn’t need another light where we were. I remember it wasn’t completely dark outside, because I could still see the barbecue grill that Gramps had cooked the chicken on for dinner. It was on the patio through the sliding glass doors. The adults sat around the dining table drinking coffee and talking – Gram, Gramps, Mom, Dad, Allison’s mom, Mrs. Maxwell, and Gram’s neighbor, Mrs. Callahan, who was Allison’s grandmother.

“It can’t come fast enough for me,” Gram was saying. “Your dad’s been retired for two years already. In just thirteen days and—“she looked at her watch “—twenty-one hours I will be officially retired.” She wore a huge grin, her eyes were bright, and she looked happy. She tucked a lock of silvery hair behind one ear, revealing one of the diamond stud earrings Gramps gave her on their fortieth anniversary, which they celebrated the first weekend we were there. “We can’t wait to hit the road. First thing on our bucket list is a cross country trip. No timetable. No commitments dragging us back here. Just pure freedom to explore the country for as long as we want.”

“What about the house?” Mom asked. “Won’t you worry about leaving it vacant?”

Gram waved away the question.

“It’s going on the market the day she retires,” Gramps explained. “We don’t dare list it before then, because properties are selling too fast around here. Everybody wants to move to Saratoga.”

“You’re selling the house?” Mom looked horrified. “But where will you go when you’re done traveling?”

“We’ll get an apartment,” Gram said, shrugging. “No hassles of homeownership. For the first time in our adult lives, we want to be free of all responsibilities. Maybe that will changeafter a while and we will want to buy something. But right now–” she sighed “—I can’t think of a more perfect and relaxing way to live.”

“But you’ll get bored,” Mom whined. “You’ve never been one to be idle. You won’t be happy!”

“Watch us. And who said we’ll be idle?” Gram wore that knowing smile that always made me feel safe. Like she could control anything and make bad things disappear. “We’ll just be doing only what we choose to do, when we choose to do it.” Hands out, palms up, slight shrug. “What could be closer to heaven?”

Children absorbed more than adults thought they did. Gram’s announcement worried me. Where would we visit them when the house was sold? It sort of felt like home away from home here—would I miss it? But Gram and Gramps made a fun adventure out of everything. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t matter where they lived.

Comments received from readers last time were helpful for shaping where the story would go. I hope to hear from several of you again!

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Progress With New Novel

You may recall that I abandoned my completed novel, Transitions, when it was given a thumbs down by early readers. It wasn’t awful, but it needed more work than I wanted to spend time on when other story lines were ping-ponging in my head. I may go back to Transitions…or not. Maybe I will use some of the more appealing scenes for other works. Meantime, though, I have jumped with both feet into a story that is a more natural fit for my writing style. The working title is Gram and Me. Here is the opening paragraph, in the voice of the main character, Sarah.

I don’t remember the details of the day my life ended and began again. At eight years old, maybe I was too young. And I was, well, dead for those few minutes. If I saw the proverbial white light, I don’t recall it. But there was no doubt one life ended and a new one began. My parents and my baby brother, Christopher, were gone. A drunk driver in a pick-up truck veered into our rental car on our way to the airport from Gram and Gramp’s house. The force of the impact sent us down a steep hill and into an inconvenient stand of trees that stopped us dead – so to speak.

Then I went to live with Gram and Gramps in an upstate New York city called Saratoga Springs. It was the end of one life and the beginning of another.

From time to time I will share more of Gram and Me. Your feedback is welcome!

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*Book Of The Month* Letting In Light by Emma Davies

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Healthy Eating Cost Savings Tips

While I usually blog about writing related topics, you may also have noticed that I am a bit of a health addict. So when I found this blog, I knew there would be a number of his postings that I’d be tempted to re-blog. Enjoy!

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LOCAL AUTHORS TO CELEBRATE FAMILY AT KNICKERBOCKER MANSION

SCHAGHTICOKE, NY

MOTHER’S DAY, MAY 10t, 2015

Free and Open to the Public –Gloria Waldron Hukle & Dawn Lajaunesse

Inspired by family, Author Dawn Lajaunesse, who lives near Saratoga Springs with her husband, Dennis, and Border terrier, Nala, wrote her second novel, In Her Mother’s Shoes.  The novel draws on the life history of her own mother, who grew up in Valley Falls, not far from Schaghticoke, and looks at universal themes in family relationships, particularly mothers and their children.

    “As Meredith sorts through her elderly mother’s house before selling, she finds clues to her mother’s shadowy past.  She begins to understand why her mother related so poorly to her children and is shaken by parallels in her relationships with her own children. Is it possible to break the cycle of destructive behaviors that are passed from generation to generation? “- Dawn Lajeunesse, In Her Mother’s Shoes

  Her first published novel was “Autumn Colors”, also based locally and derived loosely from her own life experiences.  She is currently working on a third book she has titled Gram and Me and hopes for publication early 2016.   

Visit Dawn Lajeunesse at www.dawnlajeunesse.com .  

Special price for Dawn’s books for this event will be $10 each. A portion of all proceeds will be donated to the Knickerbocker Mansion.

An author with deep roots in New York’s Albany, Rensselaer, Saratoga and Warren Counties, historical novelist, Gloria Waldron Hukle drew upon both documented fact and family lore when writing her series of novels spanning three centuries.  Hukle, a dogged researcher whose ancestors were among the first to settle in the Schaghticoke area, will join other authors at the Knickerbocker Mansion in sharing their journey behind the book.  

    “In 1976, while America celebrated its bicentennial, Tena Waldron received an anonymous gift in the mail.  The contents of this small package becomes the catalyst for her journey to the charming Adirondack hamlet of North Creek, her deceased father’s hometown.  Later, in the dining room of the North Creek inn where Tena registers, she discovers a rare, two-handled, silver caudle cup.  In this quiet, North Country community she soon learns that nothing is as it seems.”- “The Diary of a Northern Moon” by Gloria Waldron Hukle

Visit Author Gloria Waldron Hukle at www.authorgloriawaldronhukle.com

Manhattan Seeds of the Big Apple , Threads An American Tapestry  The Diary of a Northern Moon –Limited amts- Series Signed–Soft cover Set of all three- $45.00

Both authors will present and greet the public inside the Knickerbocker Mansion between Noon and 3PM.  (Break for Veteran’s Service at 1PM at the old cemetery) Knickerbocker Dutch Breakfast in am, and Chicken BBQ in the afternoon.  Reservations for BBQ suggested. Colonial Tea and Tours of Mansion. Costumed Reenactors.

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Increase Creativity With Scents!

I’ve been reading a bit about scents and creativity and found this one – who knows, maybe it will make a difference in the success of my next book! There are lots of similar articles like this out there. This will get you started.

scentsciences's avatarScent Sciences Corp.

unleash-creativityHey everyone! I would like to say that this will be my final post because my time here as an intern for Scent Sciences has come to an end. It has been an awesome experience and I have learned a lot along the way. I never knew how much information there was about the olfactory system and the various uses of scents and smells. It’s definitely interesting information to want to learn more about!

Enough about that, let’s talk about something cool! How would

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The Pleasure of Reading

frenchc1955's avatarcharles french words reading and writing

I have spent the majority of my time on this blog writing about writing, so I thought I would address the most fundamental and most important part of this experience with books: reading.

I have been reading my entire life; in fact, I cannot remember a time when I did not read. And reading has informed my life in many ways, not only in terms of career but also in the joys of life itself.

Reading is one of the central pleasures of life, along with romance—with my beloved wife—, and food, the preparation and consumption of it. I am not claiming that these three things make up the totality of pleasure, but that, for me, they are the basis of it. My life with my wife is the most important to me, but then comes reading in terms of what has influenced and created my life.

I read books…

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