To Be Continued

There were a few dried leaves in the open doorway. My footsteps echoed on the wooden floor as I entered. Most of the tables were gone. There were a few lonely books on the remaining bookshelves. It was the last day that Spellbound bookstore was open.

I shook Brett's hand and took back the copies of my novels. He told me he doesn't know what he'll do next, but he acknowledged with a smile that there are a lot of opportunities. I wished him well.

Then he said something that sort of surprised me: he wanted me to let him know when my next novel comes out.

It surprised me for a few reasons. First of all, I was touched that even in his situation, he wasn't thinking only of himself, but was reaching out to someone else.

Second, it reminded me that I have another novel to work on. That might sound silly: how could I forget that I have this novel to finish? Well, this has been kind of a tough year for me, and several factors combined to give me a pretty tenacious case of writer's block. The novel kind of slipped out of the Top Ten things I was considering ... until Brett reminded me.

As I walked to my car, I made myself stop and consider the plastic bag in my hands. It held four novels and they were all written by me! When I was younger, the mere thought of that would have made me do a silly little dance of joy. And those books made me realize that I want to create another one. It's been sitting on my computer and needs me to finish it.

So I want to thank Brett one more time. His dream hasn't ended: he's just going to move on to the next one. His attitude about that has been positive and hopeful, not angry or disappointed, which is a lot better than I would have reacted. And he's inspired me to keep up with my own dream. I have actually written seven whole sentences today and I'm going to keep going!

I think we'll both be okay.

I wish you all the best in 2017.

Winter Show

I’m not fond of several aspects of winter: the cold, the long nights, the relative lack of wildlife and birds.

But these past few weeks, I’ve discovered something, a bonus that makes me a little more tolerant of the lengthening night (and the end of Daylight Saving Time).

When I step outside after a day of work, I’m facing west and I’m confronted by a sunset. The nearby buildings and trees aren’t tall enough to block it. I can’t bury my face in a book or hide inside four walls because I have to walk to my car if I want to get home.

In other words, I can’t miss it.

So I stop. I stare. I marvel.

The sun has usually just gone away, leaving a bright flare of yellow, orange and peach. Above my head are the clouds, which come in all shapes and, more importantly, colors. They’re white, gray, light blue, purple, yellow. They’re edged with orange, pink, purple and dark blue as the sunlight reaches out before slipping over the horizon. If I’m lucky, the display is accented by the sliver of a pale moon.

I stand there in awe as co-workers scurry past me, rushing to the comfort of their cars. I don’t even realize my breath is visible or my hands are going numb.

Winter is a time of neutral colors: white, gray, brown. But she has a few tricks up her sleeve, and this one is magical.

By the time I get home, it’s usually dark and the colors are gone. But they live on in my memory, enough to hold me until the next day when the show begins again.

There will be sunsets in the spring and summer, but I’ll most likely miss them.

Right now I have no choice, and I’m glad.

Here’s to beauty in unlikely places and times.

Farewell

I just learned this past week that our local bookstore, Spellbound, will be going out of business. Once again, this town will not have a bookstore! A few years ago, I wouldn’t have thought it possible that a university town could exist without a bookstore, but I guess times are changing.

I know we’ve made great progress in technology, and I can’t imagine life without the Internet, but I sometimes ask myself if it’s all for the better. I want to wander among the bookshelves, letting a particular cover catch my eye. I want to flip through a few pages, or check out the back cover. I want to find something unexpected. I can’t do any of that on a website where you have to search by author or title. I don’t always know what I want!

I went into Spellbound to express my condolences. While I was there, I investigated the shelves, letting my eyes roam. I bought a book that I never would have expected beforehand, a book about eloquence. It was a good find, one I never would have made if I had to search for something specific. I’ll miss that feeling of discovery.

I realize that I could browse among the books in a library sale or at the recycling center, but that has a drawback: if I buy a book that way, my money is going to a good place, but not to the author. As you can imagine, I want to do what I can to support other writers.

I’ll miss Spellbound for other reasons, too. Brett and Marcy are two of the nicest people you’ll meet and they’ve been very supportive of me and other local authors. They held a book signing for several of us and they held a short story contest that got me out of my comfort zone last year, something I needed. They were always friendly and fun to talk to. I wish them the best and hope they’ll find some new endeavor that they’ll enjoy.

This also means I don’t have a local outlet for my novels right now. Some people don’t buy things online (amazing as that seems) and I liked to be able to tell them they could get one of my novels at Spellbound. Now the only outlet in town is the trunk of my car, which holds three copies of each novel. I don’t take credit cards or offer espresso, though.

I realize that we can’t stop progress. I realize that most people are perfectly happy shopping online because it can be quite convenient and lets them avoid the crowds. (I especially understand that at this time of year.)

But I’ll miss the personal service, the friendly face of the proprietor. I’ll miss the sense of surprise when I turn a corner to find something I never expected. I’ll miss the warm atmosphere.

I guess I’m old-fashioned.

      But I also think it’s possible that some things that are left behind shouldn’t be.

It Happened

It happened! The Cubs are the World Series Champions!

No more "maybe next year." No more talk about curses, goats, black cats. They did it!!!

Besides the fact that it lets me think about something other than politics, why does it matter? Because this team, and their fans, deserved it. The team never gave up, even when they were down three games to one and it looked dire. The fans never stopped loving them, even when it looked dire. They deserve each other and the championship.

I'm a relative newcomer to Cubs fandom, having joined the ranks 29 years ago, but I know the heartache, the resignation, the anguish that used to come at the end of every year. I was always so hopeful and then I was crushed.

But now I can rejoice! I can celebrate! I can smile all through the winter. And so can Cubs fans all over the world.

Thank you to the Cubs for making this happen. Thank you for NEVER giving up!
Thank you for giving me hope each year and giving all of us joy this year.

Here's what I wrote in July: Go Cubs blog

They made history in that 7th game. And I'm pretty sure they've changed me for the better.

Halloween Story

To get you in the mood for Halloween, here's my entry from the short story contest last year. I hope you'll enjoy it ... and have a spooky Halloween!

Fall

The ice cream truck’s days were numbered.

All summer long, Alice had gritted her teeth and turned up her iPod so she could try to ignore the siren song of “Pop! Goes the Weasel.”

She’d drawn the shades and kept her eyes focused on the monitor to erase dancing visions of the Choco Taco, the chocolate chip cookie sandwich, the Nestlé Crunch bar, the Drumstick.

She’d nibbled on dry-roasted peanuts and dried fruit, reminding herself of the many advantages of working at home.

But now winter was peering at her over the horizon, its icy claws and cold breath only weeks away, while autumn lay faint upon the landscape, wrapping colored leaves around it to stay warm.

Maybe because she saw it as her last chance, Alice let her gaze stray from the spreadsheet and wander as if by chance to the front door. She peeked at the little tin of peanuts on the corner of the desk, imagining them covered in melted chocolate, and then at her billfold, remembering the lonely five-dollar bill inside.

She could hear the truck inching along the street, its peppy song faltering at her hesitation.

“Oh!” She dug through the billfold to claim her prize and ran out onto the lawn. The white truck was already two houses down so she cried out, waving the bill over her head.

The truck’s red brake lights glared at her.

Alice hustled along the side of the truck, panting, and stopped to consider her choices. As she did, two small figures darted from the truck and ran in irregular spirals on the lawn behind her, chittering and jabbering.

Happy customers? The vendor’s children, glad to be temporarily free?

Alice focused on the list of enticements.

A voice spoke from behind her: “That’s the wrong truck.”

The two spiraling figures halted. Alice thought she saw one turn its head for an instant, revealing what looked like a gaping skull, but it quickly averted its face. She realized it must be wearing some type of mask, although it was still early for Halloween.

Alice pivoted to see a small, blond-haired girl on the lawn behind her, standing with arms crossed and lower lip jutting out. The girl wore a blue dress with the faces of Anna and Elsa on the front and looked to be about six. When Alice checked, she could see the girl’s mother sitting on the porch steps, absorbed in her phone. A teddy bear lay forgotten on a blanket near the porch as the girl approached Alice.

Alice knelt down so she was almost at eye level. “Would you like to go ahead of me, sweetie?”

“No, it’s the wrong truck,” the girl insisted. “Run away!”

Alice blinked away the enchanting images of ice cream treats to see both childlike figures turn grinning skull-faces toward her and extend clawed hands in her direction. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw a plume of black smoke rising over the top of the truck like a wave. Dark shadows moved inside. The girl hadn’t been fooled, and now Alice wasn’t either.

Alice clutched at the bill in her hand and closed her eyes against the horrific visions. She wanted to live! She wanted a better job, friends, someone who cared what happened to her. Ice cream wasn’t the answer.

All Alice had to do was scoop up the little girl and run …

Then Alice heard the girl scream and opened her eyes.

Not two feet away, the girl’s mother was leaning forward, extending a hand with two crumpled bills in it toward the gaping maw on the side of the truck.

“No, Mommy!” the girl cried. “Stop!”

“Mommy will be with you in a minute,” the woman said in a faraway voice.

Something dark inside the truck was reaching forward.

It was as plain as the spreadsheet in Alice’s empty house: the little girl had left the safety of her blanket to warn Alice and now she was about to lose her mother because of it.

Alice took one last look at the little girl’s tear-streaked face before jumping up to knock the woman aside.

“No,” Alice said in her loudest voice as she held out her hand, “I was here first.”

She felt something cold and scaly close on her wrist. The five-dollar bill slid from her grasp, to be replaced with something even colder and squishy. Alice didn’t look at it as she took a large bite.

It was the most delicious treat she’d ever tasted. Chocolate and vanilla, with a hint of peanuts, all swirled together into near perfection. Alice smiled.

The wind sucked in its breath. The purple sky spat lightning and coughed thunder. Smoke enveloped the truck, Alice, the shrieking goblins. With an orange flash and a popping sound, all of them vanished.

Mother and daughter were left clutching at each other, kneeling on the lawn with their heads pressed together. After a few moments, they looked up.

“She was a nice lady,” the girl said.

The mother shook her head. “Who? I don’t remember.”

“That’s okay, Mommy.” The little girl smiled at the vacant spot near the curb, where the last wisps of smoke were dissipating. “I do.”

©Diane McCallum 2016

Advancing

Will someone please tell me how it got to be October? It's been almost a month since my last post! It certainly doesn't seem that long and I apologize for it.

September was quite a challenging month at work, both in workload and issues that arose for me and my co-workers. Things are working out, for the most part, but it kept me busy and I was often so tired when I got home that I plopped in front of the TV and didn't do anything, including thinking about my blog.

Just in case work wasn't overwhelming enough, Elon Musk and another co-worker decided to jump into the mix (although not with the purpose of overwhelming me). You might have heard about Elon Musk and SpaceX's plan for Mars exploration and colonization. He's looking at the 2020s to start, which is amazingly soon if you think about it, and his plans are detailed. If you'd like to see the video (which is long and rather technical in places, but also fascinating), try this: Elon Musk Mars Plan Or here's a shorter, more visual look: SpaceX Interplanetary Travel

A co-worker had mentioned the longer video to me so I watched most it. At first I was right there with the plan, but it wasn't long before he got into the technical aspects of the propellant and engines, leaving me behind. I'm certainly not an engineer.

As I contemplated that, my co-worker mentioned the D-Wave computer, which I'd never heard of (that was embarrassing). I Googled it today and it only took a very short time before I found myself floundering. The big problem is that it's based on quantum physics, which is a subject I must admit my brain can't wrap itself around. I've tried, but the concepts are so fantastic that I'm not able to envision or make sense of them. This made the D-Wave computer almost opaque to me. I can sort of understand cooling atoms down until they're almost motionless, and I can almost envision them merging in waves, but then I get lost trying to understand how that would lead to computing anything, especially when it's not clear whether the results would be statistically reliable or whether alternate universes are possible or not.

Whew! I'm not giving up on either of these things, the Mars plan or the D-Wave computer, but I might have to let myself marvel at them without completely comprehending them. I drive a car without knowing the intricacies of its computer, so I guess this is the same thing.

The only thing that gives me pause about this is that I write science fiction. Shouldn't I understand the science? Well, I can try, but I'm not always going to succeed. What I must remember is that I can't pretend to understand something I don't. Believe it or not, there are things in my novels that I couldn't fully explain (besides what's going on in Nick's head, I mean), but I do my best not to make it look like I understand them. Does that make sense? I know nothing about machinery but one of my main characters is a mechanic. I try to say what he's working on without making it obvious I don't know how to do that. I don't make up some kind of tool or piece of equipment so mechanics everywhere can exclaim, "What?! She doesn't know what she's talking about!"

I'm also not going to throw a D-Wave computer into my next novel just because it's the latest thing. I'll leave that to writers who understand it. As for the colonization of Mars, that wasn't even a possibility when I started writing my novels, so I'll just have to live with it if I didn't foresee it. That's the risk a science fiction writer takes. (I feel like I got a few things right, though. Autoguide, anyone?)

I guess I'm trying not to get too overwhelmed. If I think I have to understand everything related to space exploration or include all of the latest technology in my novels, I'm going to write mush. I might do that anyway, but I'm trying to avoid it!

Meanwhile, I can marvel at the latest advances. I hope you will, too.

Shaken

By now you've probably heard about the earthquake in Oklahoma this morning. It was 5.6, centered a little north of Pawnee, OK, and we felt it in Pittsburg, KS. I was in bed when it felt like a strong person had grabbed the frame and was shaking it vigorously. I could hear items on the dresser rattling. My brain ruled out a passing truck and something hitting our house before it settled on "earthquake." It shook us a little, but no damage was done.

I've also been a little shaken figuratively.

When I first published Outsider, I thought I'd probably sell about three or four copies, mostly to family members. To my amazement, the people at work were excited to hear I'd been published. They lined up to buy the book and asked for my autograph. One even wanted to have her picture taken with me. This was followed by a whirlwind of books signings and an interview for the local newspaper.

Hindsight now tells me the truth: they thought "published" was the same as "famous." They thought I was already there ... and after a while, I believed it, too.

Lately, with book sales at zero, I've realized that we were mistaken. I'm not a failure, because I have four books published, but I'm not really successful either.

That's okay. Not everyone can be Stephen King or J.K. Rowling and I'm fine with that. The problem is that I spent too much time worrying that I didn't try hard enough or wasn't good enough ... and that's dried up my writing. That's not okay.

I'm going to try to go back to that feeling I first had when I saw Outsider pop up on amazon.com: happy and excited. I'm going to try to reacquaint myself with my characters. I might try to introduce myself to some new characters. Most of all, I want to reorient my thinking so that I don't obsess over how many books I've sold and instead concentrate on the joy of writing. That's what matters to me.

I was a little shaken, but I hope no damage was done.

Closing Ceremony

Tonight is the Closing Ceremony for the Olympics, which I always approach with mixed feelings.

On one hand, I'm a little relieved that I'll have more personal time. It seems I've spent the past two weeks alternating between work and the Olympics, to the detriment of housework or anything else.

On the other hand, I'm a little sad. I watch so much of the Olympics because there's always something to watch. There are sports I will never see on TV otherwise, so I can learn about them and see what I've been missing. There is plenty of drama and pageantry. There are the beautiful beaches and mountains.

But most of all, there are the athletes. I realize that we had a few this time who didn't exactly acquit themselves well, but those were a minority. Overall, I saw many inspirational people from all over the globe, who demonstrated humility, hard work and skill. I saw people in tears because they were able to compete against the best in the world ... and it didn't matter if they won a medal or not. They were at the pinnacle: the Olympics!

I saw people from all over mingling with each other, talking and sharing stories. Nationalities and religions took a back seat to connections, to humanity. They had more in common than they had differences.

And that is what I will miss the most. The Olympics offer us a glimpse of what we could all be: people with much in common, who want to win but never to humiliate, who recognize the skills in each other and respect them. We could all be the runner who tumbles to the ground, jumps to her feet and then stops to help her fellow competitor, even at the risk of her own victory. We could all reach out and shake hands.

There are many reasons that can't really happen, but the Olympics remind me of the possibilities.

So I say "thank you" to all of the Olympic athletes. May you have as much success in the rest of your lives as you did in showing us the meaning of sportsmanship and humanity.

How It All Began Part 2

Here's another excerpt from my first novel, Outsider. (Part 1 was last week. I hope you've read it!)

          Sean heard the cell door behind him slide open and turned to see a guard standing in the doorway.  It was the same one who had delivered his breakfast.

         The guard stepped into the cell and surveyed the contents, his eyes pausing on the bulky gray pressure suit hung on the wall next to the door, although he kept Sean within his peripheral vision.  Sean had already inspected the suit, finding it to be nothing more than a spacesuit with built-in oxygen supply but few accessories.  He’d never seen one up close, but there wasn’t much to see so he’d mostly forgotten about it since his first examination.

         “We’re having a safety drill,” the guard said.  “You’ll have to put that on.”

         “Safety drill?” Sean repeated.  “On the last day?”

         “Just put it on.”  The guard took a step back while Sean approached the spacesuit, and Sean noticed that he glanced once down the hallway.

         Sean struggled into the suit, which resisted his efforts to fasten it.

         “Let me help you,” the guard said.  “Keep your arms in the air.”

         Sean obeyed while the guard tugged at the zippers.

         “Where’s your partner?” Sean asked.

         “Busy.”  The guard paused.  “But he’d hear me if you try anything.”

         “I’m not in here for murder,” Sean said.  “You’re safe from me.”

         Sean noticed that the guard kept an eye on his prisoner’s hands while he secured the suit.

         “I don’t understand why this is necessary,” Sean said when the guard reached for the helmet.

         “Just a precaution.  I’ll be back to remove it when we’ve landed safely."

         Once the guard had locked the helmet in place, he said something, but Sean couldn’t hear the words.  After the guard backed out of the cell, Sean turned toward the porthole again and this time his eyes picked up movement out there, although it was a few seconds before he became aware of it.  There was a small cluster of stars coming toward him, which couldn’t be right.  Sean squinted at the moving lights until he recognized them as another spaceship, but he couldn’t see much of it because only the cockpit lights were on.  As he strained to make out any details of the ship, he realized that it had picked up speed as it approached.  Although the sight made him suspect that this was more than just a drill, he couldn’t figure out who would threaten a prison ship.  There couldn’t be anything of value on board.  Unless it was a case of mistaken identity, it just didn’t make sense.  Nevertheless, he instinctively ducked when the ship passed overhead.  Then he straightened up and laughed.  False alarm.

         There was a distant roar, barely audible through the helmet.  Sean checked to make sure the helmet was secure and then he felt ridiculous, standing there like an awkward monster, but that didn’t last long.  The next thing he knew, he was on the floor as the ship rocked.  He tried to grab at the bunk bolted to the floor but he slid away from it when the cell tipped.  He bounced off the wall back toward the cot and managed to grasp a leg of it.  He was rolled back and forth for several seconds.  Then there was an orange flash and everything around him disappeared in a yellow-white glare that burned itself onto his vision.  Try as he might, shaking his head and blinking, Sean could not dispel the painful glow his immediate world had become, a world in which he felt himself falling.  He was no longer holding onto anything and flailed his arms around wildly, trying to find something to break his fall.

          There was nothing.

Thanks for reading!

How It All Began

Here's an excerpt from the beginning of my first novel, Outsider.

            When Sean Foster woke up, he lay very still on the cot, letting his eyes focus on the wall in front of him. He felt full consciousness returning, but he wouldn’t let himself turn over, not until he reminded himself that he didn’t know where he was.

            He rolled over and his eyes swept the room, taking in the metallic-gray walls, the steel door, the porthole reflecting the harsh light from the ceiling. If he could just concentrate hard enough, he might convince himself he’d never seen this place before. His eyes settled on the light fixture in the ceiling, a rectangle of plastic covering the two fluorescent bulbs that simulated daylight. He tried to put all of his concentration into staring at the bulbs, one of which was just beginning to flicker a little, but then his ears betrayed him by picking up the faint hum of engines. Abruptly Sean saw the cell for what it was, and he put the palms of both hands to his eyes before he sat up.

            It was stupid to think that’d work anyway, he thought as he looked down at his dull brown uniform.

            By now he knew the sequence: first brief terror, then anger, to be followed eventually by resignation. Once he reached that point, Sean slouched back against the wall, staring at the beige loafers waiting on the floor beside the cot. He knew it was no use asking the guards again for something to read; there was nothing to do but wait.

            His thoughts were interrupted by a jarring sound of metal scraping metal. The door of the cell slid open slowly and two guards appeared beyond it, one holding a tray while the other rested a hand on his holstered gun.

            “Breakfast.” The guard holding the tray was husky, with no trace of flab, and he stood a few centimeters taller than Sean. He had a face resembling a wind-carved sand dune, topped by short, black hair. His dark eyes checked the cell, as they had every other time he delivered a meal here, but the scan had become cursory by now.

            Sean stayed where he was, knowing the routine. This allowed the guard to enter the cell and set the tray on the floor just inside the door before stepping back again.

            “Thanks,” Sean offered.

            “Yeah,” the guard said on his way out. After Sean heard the lock take hold, he retrieved the tray and sat back on the cot to eat. It was the usual, a couple of tasteless pancakes with a tiny squirt of syrup, a crumbling piece of toast that soaked up the egg pretty well, a cup of orange juice, and some weak coffee, each in its own little plastic container. Sean no longer noticed the food; eating was merely something to do. Today, however, he didn’t do much of it, barely managing to down the toast and juice before he had to give up. There was no use forcing himself, so he set the tray next to the door and returned to his position on the cot. The guard didn’t comment when he came to pick up the tray half an hour later.

            A few moments after that, Sean turned his head to look at the porthole again. He could still recall his mental images when his apologetic lawyer first mentioned space: purple aliens, flashy spaceships soaring past brilliant planets, glittering asteroid showers. It had all seemed exciting enough, but he had yet to actually see any of it. From his position on the bunk now, the glaring reflection of the ceiling light made the void beyond the porthole invisible. He didn’t want to look out again, but then he thought, twenty years, and that was enough to get him off the cot and across the short distance to the porthole. This might be his last look for another lifetime—at least it seemed like that to someone only twenty-four years old—so he might as well take advantage of it.

            As he bent toward the small glass circle, he caught a glimpse of himself reflected there: Sean Foster, a medium-sized young man whose light-brown hair needed a comb and whose brown eyes looked a little puzzled. Some hardened criminal, he thought.

            His image blurred into the void outside the spaceship. As usual, all he could see were stars. There were billions of them out there, more than he’d thought possible, but they were only a temporary distraction from boredom and, especially today, dread. It was the third day, so the ship must be nearing its destination. He pressed his nose against the cold glass, wondering without enthusiasm if he would see the prison planet before it became merely the ground under his feet. At the thought of a prison door slamming shut behind him, Sean felt fear crawl up his spine and over his shoulder blades to nestle in his hair. It didn’t matter what space was really like because he wouldn’t see it again for twenty years, maybe more if they forgot about him. He was so far from his lawyer, the courts, anyone who might care about him, that he might as well have ceased to exist. Sean had been caught off guard by his sentence, but he wasn’t going to let the horror of the prison term sneak up on him, too.

Please feel free to leave a comment. You can purchase Outsider or any of my other novels by clicking on the images on the right side of this page. Thanks again for reading!

If you haven't already, please read the Featured Post to the right for new information about this blog.

Three Years

Believe it or not, today marks the three-year anniversary of this blog! (It doesn't look like it because my first official post was July 28, 2013, but that's because I accidentally deleted the first post from July 23! I was off to a great start there.)

It's hard for me to believe that I've written posts weekly for that long. It's hard to believe I found that much to say. I don't consider myself particularly thoughtful or opinionated, so it makes me wonder what all of those posts were about! Ha.

I would like to thank you if you've read one, all or some of my posts. I'm not exactly sure how many readers I have out there, but I thank all of you.

Here's the latest news on Diane McCallum and the Penumbra series. My fourth novel, The Other Side, is published and awaiting copyright registration. It's also in the local bookstore, Spellbound, so be sure to check it out! There is a fifth novel, but it needs so much work that I can assure you it will not be out for more than a year. I have a tentative title, but it might be a while before I release that.

I intend to release news about the fifth novel when I feel there's something worth mentioning.

However, the weekly blog is going to have to stop. I'm very sorry, but I am truly running out of things to say! When I have a novel that I'll be releasing soon, that keeps the ideas coming and I don't have any trouble writing a blog, but when there's no novel scheduled, that leaves a bit of a void (especially in my brain!). I've spent three years pushing to get the word out there and I won't just stop, but I have to take a break. That way I can spend more time on the fifth novel.

Please be assured that this blog won't die. If a certain team wins a certain series, you'll probably hear something about that. If a thought strikes me, I'll share it, whether you want to know or not! When there's progress on the next novel, I'll let you know that, too. My goal is to write something at least once a month. If I find that I'm posting at a particular time of the month, I'll let you know, but I'm afraid I can't give you any specifics right now. You can also follow me on my Facebook page: DianeMcCallumAuthor

Please keep spreading the word to your friends and family about the Penumbra series. I'd love to share my novels with a lot of people. My dream is to have people discussing the characters and plot (especially if I get to hear the discussion).

Thank you again for reading this blog and putting up with me. I will try to post again next week, just to round it out, and then we'll see what happens. Please check back!

Go, Cubs

The All-Star Game has come and gone. We're back into regular-season baseball. Yikes.

As you probably know, I'm a baseball fan. In fact, I'm a Cubs fan. In previous years, that was enough to earn me sympathy from friends and family. It remains to be seen what it will mean this year.

I was able to watch the team on TV today (they lost, but played well), and I realized with a jolt that now it's starting to get scary. Each game will mean a little more. The upcoming trade deadline means that I have to worry about who will stay and who will go. The standings will occupy a little more of my concentration.

This half of the season is so different than the first half! While the first half is full of hope and discovery, this half holds more tension and, possibly, heartbreak.

But we can't have one without the other. The team has battled this far and they're going to keep battling. They're not going to quit, so I can't either. I will follow them to the end, whether it's bitter or sweet.

But I promise this: as long as the Cubs play hard and well, I'll cheer for them no matter what happens in the autumn. That's what a fan does. We pour our hearts out in the stadium, in our living rooms, in bars, wherever we happen to be. We celebrate the victories and mourn the losses. We believe, and we express that belief.

We don't take our frustrations out on the team. As long as they're trying, they don't deserve blame. After all, we're the ones who chose to be fans. We're the ones who chose this particular team. Nobody forced us.

And look what they do for us. They let us escape. They let us forget the darker side of human nature and believe in the light side. They let us admire the beauty of a blue sky, green grass and the arc of a white ball. They remind us of what makes summer good. And then the standings seem a little less important.

You can tell me it's just a sport, and I acknowledge that. History will not be changed by the next Cubs game. But I might.

Break It Up

I read a book last week that had a very complex but interesting plot, as well as characters that seemed well-rounded. It was a thriller and it kept me reading throughout, even though it was 400 or so pages. When I put it down, I thought that I might like to read more by the author, except for one thing: I don't want to wade through conversations that are very hard to follow anymore.

It's a shame, but we all have to decide where to concentrate our reading, since there are SO MANY books out there. Maybe I'm being unfair to this writer, but it's also not fair to read a book while thinking how frustrated I am with the writing. So I'll spare the writer further denigration. (Obviously, I'm not going to name the writer here.)

I've already written a blog about how to use "he/she said" and here it is: He/She Said

Now I'm going to expand on the fourth method: not using "said" at all.

This is my own example that I just made up, but it gives an idea of what I was seeing:

     "You can't do that." She took a step back and frowned.

Who do you think made that statement? "She," right? Wrong! In several cases, the writer would have a statement like that and follow it immediately with the listener's reaction in the same paragraph.

Please don't do this to your readers! I was forced several times to go back to where "Jack said" told me who was speaking. Then I had to count lines down to this statement to find that Jack said it and his girlfriend was reacting to Jack saying it. Very confusing!

The solution is so simple:                                 Or even better:
     "You can't do that."                                         "You can't do that," Jack said.
     She took a step back and frowned.                 She took a step back and frowned.

Whenever you have two people speaking and reacting to the other's statements, please make it clear who is speaking and who is reacting. You don't have to use "Jack said" on every other line, but don't mix characters. If the statement is made by one person and then another person speaks or reacts, put that in a separate paragraph.

Give it a try. Your readers will thank you.

Why Sci-Fi

Ha. I chose science fiction just so I could have that cool rhyming title someday.

I've had people at work tell me they're astonished to find that I have all these stories of remote planets, spaceships and wormholes in my head. I guess that tells you how boring I am in real life, since they're so surprised by it.

But how did I choose science fiction as the genre for my series?

Part of it is because of Ray Bradbury, my greatest inspiration, but I can't attribute it all to him. For one thing, he didn't write only science fiction. He had a story to tell and he didn't particularly worry about the genre. Wherever the story led him, that's where he went. This is also true for me.

I've always been drawn to science fiction, though. Some of my favorite movies are in that genre and I like the freedom it offers. (That seems appropriate for Independence Day weekend, doesn't it?)

Besides that, I'd already ruled out a few genres. I don't have the money to travel around the planet so I can describe various locations effectively. I enjoy historical fiction, but I've never been particularly strong at history. I don't have the patience to write a romance. I didn't want to spend years on research.

Don't get me wrong: I did have to do research. I had to learn a lot about wormholes (thank you, Kip Thorne), spaceships, microgravity, etc. I have a lot of geeky physics books on my shelves. But once I'd done that, it was pretty easy (and cheap) to travel to distant planets: I just had to close my eyes (even that is optional) and dream.

When you think about it, the genre is only a small part of the equation. There have to be strong characters, a compelling story and a few ideas guiding the whole thing. If you don't have those, the genre will be irrelevant.

At some point, though, I did make a conscious decision. I think it was about the time I discovered Sean aboard a spaceship heading to a prison colony. I'd been toying with several ideas, but that one seemed to speak to me the most so I went with it.

And I've never looked back.

Happy Independence Day tomorrow! Thanks for reading.

What to Expect

Now that The Other Side is published, I thought I'd tell you a little more about it. (Don't worry, I won't tell everything! There are some spoilers here, though, so read on at your own discretion.)

First of all, I have a new cover artist. Her name is Nicole Smith, of Jasper Design Studio. I wanted to try something new for this cover and she was eager to oblige. I think the resulting image captures some of what goes on in this novel.

So what does go on in this novel? Well, first of all, I want to caution you that this one is a little "out there." What I mean by that is that I stretched a bit, I pushed myself a little further than I thought I would.

When I wrote Outsider, I resolved that I would try to avoid certain "cliches" of science fiction. I even had Sean come up with some ideas about space ("purple aliens, flashy spaceships soaring past brilliant planets, glittering asteroid showers") and then I wrote "but he had yet to actually see any of it" because I didn't think any of my characters would. Some writers are able to make the more common aspects of sci-fi work admirably, but I was afraid I didn't have the skill to do so. Because of that, I vowed I'd never have humanoid aliens, gigantic spaceships or a huge evil empire ruling the universe. I mostly managed to avoid those, but I didn't manage to avoid one topic that I didn't think I'd ever approach: alien life.

I guess I should have known better when I had to come up with an explanation for the wormhole construction. Obviously, humans in the near future wouldn't have the capability for such a project, so I just wrote it off as aliens building them. That sealed my fate. I thought I could just ignore the builders, because they were too far away or too ancient, but it didn't work out that way. (Besides, there was the enigmatic Chapter 8 of Another Shot.) After a great deal of struggle, I decided to confront them ... which meant I had to figure out who/what they were.

How many books and movies have been created about aliens? How could I possibly do anything new with the idea? What did I want to do with them? I don't even know if I consciously thought all of these questions, but they were certainly present when I tackled this subject. I can't say I've done anything remarkably different, but I tried to avoid some of the worst cliches. Some of the problems I have with aliens in movies is that they're all humanoid, often cute (or murderous) and easily able to converse with humans. The two species interact with no trouble whatsoever. I realize that this is all creative license and I don't blame the moviemakers because a lot of those movies are entertaining to watch, but I didn't think I could write something like that. I didn't want E.T. or the face-grabbers of "Aliens." I didn't want Superman or little gray beings.

I'll leave it to you, the reader, to decide if I came up with something that works.

I will tell you this: I gave a nod to two of my favorite sci-fi movies in The Other Side, so see if you can find both of the references!

There are a few other things in this novel that I didn't expect when I wrote Outsider, but I'll leave it to you to discover the rest.

I hope you'll enjoy the novel! (If you buy it on Amazon, please be kind enough to leave a review.)

Thanks for reading!

Speak Out

I was brought to tears this week as I heard tales from survivors of the massacre in Orlando. The unthinkable had happened to them and they struggled to make any sense of it, as we all must do.

I wanted to do something, to write something. That’s what I do: I write through things and sometimes that helps.

But I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t find the right words. So many have spoken so eloquently about what happened there that I didn’t think I could compete.

Then I realized: I don’t need or want to compete. I want to join those voices.

Those of us who choose love, tolerance and kindness need to do this more often. We need to make it clear that hatred will not win. It MUST NOT win.

We must be strong, stand up and declare that we are on the side of those who wish to spread cheer, hugs and laughter. We are on the side of those who care for each other and want only to live in peace.

Those on the side of hatred think that we’re weak, but we’re not. If we’re so weak, why do they need to keep killing us?

No, they fear us. We are the ones who can make a real difference.

So let us all stand up and choose love. Let us proclaim it from wherever we are, in whatever words we can find: we choose LOVE.

And we’re not afraid to say it.

The Other Side

If you scrolled down the page on my blog in the past few days, you might have noticed that there's a new book cover in the lower right. That's right: The Other Side is now published! It's available in paperback on Amazon: The Other Side  I hope to have it available for Kindle by next week.

What a process this one has been! It really tested my patience (which was probably good for me), but I'm so glad I stuck with it.

I want to thank Nicole Smith, the artist who created the cover image, for her patience and willingness to work with me to get the image right. She put up with a lot of emails from me and she was always gracious and helpful in response. Thanks, Nicole.

I also want to thank everyone who put up with my hand-wringing and eye-rolling throughout the long journey that led to this novel. You were all very kind not to tell me to shut up and get control of myself.

Now I hope at least a few people will read it ... and like it! Please spread the word that the fourth novel in the Penumbra series is out: no one will read it if they don't hear about it. (And if you buy the novel from Amazon, please write a review.)

Thanks for your help!

Finally Some Good News

I just returned from Nebraska, where I spent some time with my parents and sister. The weather was spectacular for us, except for one brief downpour that managed to drench me thoroughly. We did a little sightseeing (driving past the Nebraska State Capitol never gets old), watched a little hockey and baseball, and did a lot of talking, which was the most enjoyable.

It's always nice to spend time with people who accept me for who I am and don't seem to mind my company, amazingly enough.

When I got home, there was a brown cardboard package waiting for me in the stack of mail. I knew it was the latest proof copy of The Other Side ... and once again, I was a little afraid to open it. We've had so much trouble with the cover image and I wasn't sure I was ready to go through that again. However, I knew I had to do it, so I opened it.

I think this is the one! The image is much better and I think the artist has fixed the problem. I can't tell you how happy I am to report that to you.

Tomorrow after I get unpacked and do the laundry, I'm going to try to go through the whole book once more (just a run-through, not a complete rereading), and then I'll most likely approve it at CreateSpace.com. When that's done, it won't be long before The Other Side shows up on Amazon!

I must admit that there were times I wondered if that would ever happen, but I was determined to see it through, so we're almost there. You can either watch for the news on my Facebook page DianeMcCallumAuthor on FB, or keep checking Amazon, or check back here next week for the latest news on when it will be available.

Tell all your friends that it's almost time for the fourth novel in the Penumbra series to come out!

And thank you again for your patience.

Perseverance

It sounded like an amazing plan: launch a rocket that deploys its payload and then comes back to land on Earth safely so it can be used again. When SpaceX announced that they were going to do this, I thought it sounded exciting. Not only would it save resources and money, it would be a cool sight to have that rocket settling back down on our planet after its voyage spaceward.

As is so often the case, it didn't quite work that way. The rocket missed the target. The rocket landed perfectly but then tipped over and exploded. I'm sure some people were questioning whether it could ever work correctly.

But SpaceX didn't give up. They kept looking at the problems and trying to solve them. They kept trying, even in the face of embarrassment at the failures. They used each disaster as a learning tool.

And then, one day, it worked. And then it worked again. And then it worked a third time. I have to admit that I think the sight of that rocket gliding down onto the platform is a thing of beauty. Maybe it's the failures that made the success that much more meaningful.

Here's what success looks like from the rocket's point of view:

I congratulate SpaceX for their determination and their success. These are the qualities that will help humanity one day reach the stars.

I'm trying to follow their example: I've just ordered a third proof copy of The Other Side. Let's hope that my third attempt will also be the one that works!

Five Years Ago

On this date in 2011, my husband and I were watching the TV screen with wide eyes. We live in Tornado Alley, as so many people do, so we keep a close eye on the weather this time of year, and that year was no exception. There was a big red blob on the radar heading right toward Pittsburg, KS.The weather forecasters were saying it was a bad one.

Then, inexplicably, the red blob took an abrupt right turn, missing Pittsburg, and another turn that took it to the east ... right toward Joplin, MO. It spawned a massive tornado that wiped out a third of the city and killed over 160 people.

I still think about how close we came to being the ones in the path of that tornado. But even more than that, I think about how resilient Joplin has been. They lost a hospital, many of their schools, and countless businesses and houses. And yet, in the years since, they've managed to rebuild almost all of it. A lot of volunteers from all over the country came to help, but the residents had to make the decision that they wanted to stay, and that's what they did.

On this five-year anniversary, I salute Joplin residents for their courage and strength. In the face of tremendous loss, they showed a determination not to let it get the better of them. It hasn't been easy, but the city has rebounded.

Congratulations, Joplin. In a season when it's sometimes easy to be fearful, you show us what hope and courage can accomplish. I wish you continued success.

Out of the Habit

Some habits are bad (like that mid-afternoon snack of Pringles chips I just had). Some habits are good (such as using a seatbelt or brushing one's teeth). It seems to be easy to fall into a habit if you don't want it, and hard if you do want it. (For example, regular exercise is difficult for me, although I've been working on that lately with more walking.)

I've had habits come and go throughout my life. Some of them are pretty weird: when I take a carrot stick from the refrigerator, I always tap it twice against the rim of the container and then shake it once over the sink to get the excess water off. At bedtime, I start by lying on my left side and then turn over onto my right side when I'm ready to sleep. I'm sure there are others I'm not even aware of.

Could I break these habits if I wanted to? Yes, if I put my mind to it ... but there seem to be more important things to worry about than these little quirks.

However, I find I've lost one habit that I had for a long time: writing. I think I need to clarify that: writing fiction. For years, it seemed the most natural thing in the world for me to be working on two or three novels at the same time. Short stories also swirled through my brain. I was always scribbling down ideas or daydreaming to bring the ideas into better focus.

Then I got my first novel published. Suddenly I had to concentrate on the details of the novel (fonts, front pages, title, back cover text, etc.). Then I had to worry about book signings, copyright protection, marketing and social media. So I worked feverishly on all of those things.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped writing. I've done plenty of rewriting (enough for a while!), but the ideas have dried up. I'm pretty sure it's just because I got out of the habit. Unfortunately, this isn't a habit that comes easily, at least not this time. I've been trying, but there aren't any ideas in my head yet. It's going to take some practice. I'll have to get into the habit of putting myself in front of a keyboard and forcing myself to find words to put on the page. (I think that short story I wrote last Halloween was a good beginning.)

I know it will come back sooner or later. There are hints of images or considerations in my head. I just need to tease them out and turn them into something resembling a story. I'll probably write some pretty terrible stuff before I get something good.

Don't get me wrong: I'm very glad I published my novels. It's been an exciting ride, and I'm not done yet. It's just that I'm ready to get back to creating more of them!

Update on The Other Side: the artist is working to make the cover image a little lighter. I expect to hear from her in the next few days. After that, I'll submit the new version and order a new proof copy. (I'm getting into the habit of patience, not entirely by choice. Ha!) Stay tuned, and thanks for your patience.

It's a Mystery

Happy Mother's Day!

I've been spending a lot of time in the wooded park north of town and I've discovered something: birding is a lot like reading a mystery novel. You get a bunch of clues and you have to put them together to get the answer. The only drawback is that in birding, you can't always read to the end to get the answer!

Both involve a little investigation and thought. You read the first few chapters of the mystery to get a sense of what the crime is and who the possible perpetrators are. You move around to try to get a better idea of what that bird is and you run through in your head what the possibilities might be.

Here are some things to consider:
1. Where is the bird?
This refers to geographical location, type of surroundings (forest, field, desert, etc.) and where you are seeing the bird: on the ground, in a tree, flying overhead, flitting around in a shrub.
2. What are its distinguishing marks?
Sometimes you get lucky and see a detail that makes it easy to identify the bird, and sometimes you aren't so lucky. Take a look at its head, eye, wings (bars or not), tail (notched or not), chest and legs/feet. I'm very good at looking at everything except the one detail I need to make a firm identification, but I'm getting better at looking at the whole bird, not just one characteristic.
3. What sounds is it making?
4. What time of year is it?
I can expect to see yellow-rumped warblers here in April and May, but not in July. If I think I see one in July, it's obviously something else and I need to look at it again.
5. What is it doing?
If it's wading in water, hopping up the trunk of a tree, running along a trail or pecking at leaves, this behavior can give you a clue to its identity.

Now it's time to go to the book: your trusty bird book, which you should have with you at all times. I know people use apps and websites to identify birds, and I'm okay with that, but I like being able to flip through pages looking for something close to what I just saw. Use whatever works for you. I find this site very helpful when I want to verify my identification of a bird or check how it sounds:  www.allaboutbirds.org

It's also helpful if you know someone who's a good birder. Many times I've emailed my friend Bob to ask him about an identification and sometimes he's pointed out that I made a mistake, which helps me learn. I wouldn't know nearly as much about birds if I didn't know Bob.

I had to do a little sleuthing this weekend to identify a couple of birds, so that's what prompted this post. (By the way, it's my 150th post!) I was able to confirm that I saw a Tennessee warbler using the very steps I mentioned above. Of course, there are always those days when I come home frustrated, because I never did get a good look at that bird and I don't know what it was. It happens. But I know I can always go out and try again.

Happy birding!

(Note: It looks like I might want to try again with the cover of The Other Side, so there's one more delay. I'm sorry about that. Stay tuned for updates.)

Getting Closer

I got the proof copy of The Other Side two days early ... and I was afraid to open the package! I know it's silly, but so much has happened to delay this novel that I didn't think I could stand to see another cover that's too dark. It was Schrodinger's cat! As long as I didn't open the package, the proof copy could be good to go, or not.

I finally opened it. The verdict: the cover is still dark, but not as dark as the first one. My husband thinks it's okay. I'm not sure. The silhouette is now visible, but it's not obvious. The image also seems bluer than the original. I emailed the artist and asked if she wants to look at it before I release the novel. If she does, I'll see what she thinks. If she doesn't (she's quite busy these days), I think I'm going to go with this version.

That leaves a final run-through of proofreading, which I will try to begin in the next day or so. (I confess that I've been a little busy birding: the warblers are coming through SE Kansas so I've been trying to see as many of them as possible. I've also been watching the NHL playoffs. Tomorrow night the Cubs are on ESPN, so forget about me getting anything else done that evening!)

Thanks so much for your patience. We're a lot closer than we were last week!

And Happy May!

Try Again

Things are moving on The Other Side again. As you know, there was a delay because there was a problem with the cover image being too dark, but once again the artist has come through for me and provided me with a revised image. We really hope this one will work!

I made a few tweaks to the story and resubmitted the cover image. After about twelve or so hours, CreateSpace gave me the go-ahead on the files, so I ordered another proof copy today. The ETA is May 2, but I'm hopeful it might arrive a little before that. Then ... cross your fingers that the cover will be okay!

I find it a little hard to believe that it's almost May and my novel isn't out yet. I never would have imagined that it would be delayed this long, but that's how things go. At least you know I'm trying very hard to get it right!

Once I get the proof copy, I'll have to read it one more time, just in case there's one last thing I missed. If nothing horrible jumps out at me and the cover is okay, this novel might finally see the light of day!

Thanks for your patience. While you're waiting, please spread the word about the series and consider writing a review on Amazon for one of the novels. I'd really appreciate it!

Park

I'm afraid I don't have much to report about The Other Side. The cover image continues to be an issue, but I'm hopeful we can get that fixed soon. I'll keep you updated.

In the meantime, the pleasant weather has prompted me to take a few more walks in the wooded park north of town. (This is the one whose skeleton I enjoyed earlier in the year.) I'm happy to report that the yellow-rumped warblers are back! I heard a faint buzzy sound and followed it around with binoculars for a while before I spotted the first warbler. Then I saw several others in the same area. Despite their rather ungainly name, they really are beautiful birds and I was happy to get a chance to see them as they pass through this area. If you want to see a photo or learn more about them, here's a good site: All About Birds-YR Warbler

I also had a rather startling encounter as I was walking toward the parking lot. My mind was wandering but it vaguely noticed a rather long reed or piece of grass that was draped across the path. As I started to step over it, however, I suddenly realized it wasn't a piece of grass, just as it realized I was rather large and close. You would have laughed to see it because we both recoiled, just like in a cartoon. I stepped back and it slid into the nearest patch of grass, where I couldn't see it anymore. My initial look, though, has me convinced that it was a rough green snake. I'm sorry I didn't get a better look because it was a lovely shade of green and I would have liked to admire it. Maybe next time.

Already the leaves are starting to come out in the trees. As much as I like being surrounded by green as I walk, it makes birding a lot more difficult. I had trouble with some unknown bird calls today: the birds easily disappeared amid the canopy ... and then they sang and called just to taunt me, I suspect. "Ha, ha, I'm in here somewhere, but you can't see me!" I suppose birds aren't really that mean-spirited, but it sure seems like they are sometimes.

That's all I have to report for now. I've done a little rewriting on The Other Side and it's mostly ready to go, so once we get the cover problem solved, things should move along. (I'll be able to take it out of park and get it in gear.) Fingers crossed!

Small Setback

I have a proof copy of The Other Side in my hands! (Well, not while I'm typing, but you get the idea.)

It came two days early, so I thank CreateSpace for that. Also, I see exactly why it's important to order a proof copy because there's a small problem with the cover: the image is darker than expected so a silhouette in the image hardly shows at all. Thank goodness I had a chance to see this before the book officially comes out!

I've already notified the artist and she's working on it, so I'm sure we can get this fixed. She's done a great job so far and has always been very patient and willing to make adjustments. (I'll tell you more about her when the novel actually comes out.) Meanwhile, I'm proofreading the text to check for any typos or stray things that need to be fixed.

I have given you some teasers for this novel, but I thought I'd give you a first look at the cover blurb:
       Reggie Hawkins has been in some bad situations ... and being confined to his
     house for weeks has to be in the top five. No appliance is safe when a mechanic
     gets bored.
       Things are about to change, though: a messenger with a warning is on the way
     and gunmen are storming his brother's law firm. Hawkins will have to act quickly
     to rescue his kidnapped brother.
       What he learns about who's behind all this will lead him and the crew of
     Penumbra on a quest to the far reaches of space, where they'll make their
     most stunning discovery yet.

I hope that will pique your interest! It's never too early to start spreading the word about the new novel coming out soon, so we can build interest for it. I'll be sure to keep you updated on its progress.