Distractions

I've been trying to work on the fourth novel but there have been a few distractions.
I finally got over my virus, only to be struck by monstrous allergies, which are threatening to rob me of my voice again! Argh. (See last week's blog about my voice.)

I also spent some time finishing up my second video, this one about my second novel, Another Shot. If you haven't seen it yet, I encourage you to do so here: Another Shot video  Let me know in the comments what you think. It was fun to make, although this one seemed a little harder than the first one. I think I was trying too hard this time around because I wanted it to be better than the first. I don't know if I succeeded or not, but at least it's out there.

I've also been spending entirely too much time on Facebook lately. I "blame" it on my good friend Bill Zahren (we met at Morningside College), who keeps posting updates on his first two novels. He's hoping to get the first one published this year and I wish him every success. He has a page where you can follow his progress here: Bill Zahren-author FB Page

Despite all this, I am getting some work done on the fourth novel. I'm pleased with the first seven chapters (although they could always use a little tweaking), but now I need to move on to the rest and make them better. In a few weeks, I'll let you know the title of the novel, but I'm still swirling it around in my head to see if I think it works.

The local bookstore, Spellbound, is planning some type of event for local authors in Pittsburg, KS, next weekend and I'm hoping to take part in it. I don't have any details yet, but I will post them on Facebook, Google+, my Amazon author page and my Goodreads author page as soon as I get them. Stay tuned!

And that's the latest! Thanks again for your support.

Voice

I took an unintentional vacation from writing recently when a virus took root in my throat like some evil alien weed. I felt like a character in a horror movie, although some people probably thought it was a bit of a comedy when I lost my voice and could only blink apologetically at people. My co-worker suggested "interpretive dance," but I made do with sign language and occasional notes on scraps of paper.

It's amazing how much you miss the ability to talk when you lose your voice! I, like many people, completely take my voice for granted until it's not there anymore. Not that I have the most important things to say, but I did miss the ability to express my indignation/joy/irritation/relief/various other emotions when they occurred. Whether anyone else missed it is another matter entirely.

And thus I gained at least some understanding of the fascination for Facebook, Twitter, etc. Typing those little epiphanies and sending them out into the world is a way of expressing ourselves, letting others know that we're here and we have something to say. I know that most of the stuff I post on Facebook is probably ignored, but I post it anyway because it's my way of declaring my existence: I'm Diane and I'm here!
(Did you hear me, Horton?)

I'm not sure I feel the same way about my novels, though. I didn't release them to let everyone know that Diane McCallum exists. I think I released them to let everyone know that Sean Foster, Ben Lamont, Reggie Hawkins and several others exist. The characters had a story to tell and I wanted to share that.

So I'm their voice (even when I'm mute), and as long as they have stories to tell, I plan to pass those along.

Work on the fourth novel continues!

Closet Spaceship Part 12

When I first told Reggie about my visit with Sean, he laughed.

I sat in the conference room, watching him fill a cup with coffee. By the time he sat down next to me, he’d grown serious.

“You sure that was Sean?” he asked. “Doesn’t sound like him.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Am I sure it was Sean? Really?”

“Okay, okay.” He took a drink. “Never seen him run from anything before.”

“You talked to him,” I said. “What’d you say?”

“I said you’re an ax murderer.”

My eyeballs were getting a lot of exercise. “What’d you really say?”

“I told him who you are, is all. What’d you do?”

“I waved an ax at him,” I said. “I guess I can’t really blame him. If some strange woman appeared outside my door and said she was from the past, I’d lock the door, too.”

“Yeah, but I told him you’re okay,” Reggie said. “There’s got to be something else.”

He took another drink.

I thought back to the conversation, trying to remember when Sean seemed to get scared.

“I told him I’m your friend, then I told him to call you …” I was thinking out loud.

“What’d you say after he talked to me?” Reggie asked.

“I don’t remember. Uh, something about people in 2015 knowing him.”

“Huh.” He took another drink.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Maybe that’s it! I said people in 2015 knew him and they might think he was fictional. What if he thinks they don’t think he’s fictional?”

When I get excited, I tend to bundle a lot of words together and fling them outward all at the same time. It makes me spend a lot of time rewriting, but that’s when I’m writing—it’s a little hard to rewrite what I say.

Reggie looked puzzled. “What?”

“He thinks people are reading about him,” I explained. “That’s got to be intimidating, right?”

“But what about during his trial? Everybody was reading about him then.”

“Oh.” This was enough to deflate my theory.

“Listen, you know him better than anybody,” Reggie said. “Keep thinking.”

It’s not easy being a writer. (Wait, it’s never easy? Okay, sometimes when the words are flowing, maybe. Other times, not so much. But I still love it.)

I sat back in my chair, thinking about all the articles written about Sean at the time. I guess that wouldn’t be fun, having your name plastered all over the place followed by the words “criminal” or “smuggler” or “convicted.”

Yet that hadn’t affected Sean. He’d been himself when he met the crew, not bitter or ready to slam a door in their faces. And now it was done …

“Okay,” I said.

“I figured you’d get it,” Reggie said.

I nodded. “And you got it a long time ago.”

Reggie shrugged.

“He thought he put all of that behind him,” I said. “And those articles were just about superficial stuff, not the real Sean. He reads fiction: he knows what a writer can do, digging around in a character’s head all the time. So I’m bringing back the past and revealing more about him than he might want to have known.”

I wanted to find Sean and apologize to him.

“I’m not really evil,” I said. “Am I?”

Reggie laughed. “Nah. Don’t worry, he’ll get over it.”

I hope he’s right.

(Happy Easter.)

Closet Spaceship Part 11

I have mixed emotions about Sean. It’s true that he introduced me to the crew, and he did give me an exciting story to start out the series, but there’s also the fact that he’s not a full-time member of the crew, although Reggie wishes he was. It’s not that I have anything against teachers; I’m married to one, after all. It’s just that he’s chosen his own path and it diverges from the crew, at least most of the time.

Wait--most of the time? Does this mean you’ll see Sean again? Yes, it’s true: he will make an appearance in the future. I could never dump him in the recycle bin, never to be seen again, mostly because he’s a good lens through which to see the crew, but also because he can be their sounding board. You might have noticed that Reggie will say things to Sean that he would never say to his crewmates. And sometimes Sean can put into words what others are thinking but don’t want to say out loud.

I spent a lot of time trying to decide if I should see Sean … or rather, if he should see me.

But then I wondered what he could say to me. It might be worth hearing, so I decided to give it a try.

Not long after the events of Another Shot, he came home to his little apartment to discover me sitting on the floor outside his door. He stopped about a meter away.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

I smiled. “Not really. Let’s just say I’m a friend of Reggie.”

At first he smiled back, but then he looked puzzled. I guess I don’t exactly fit the bill of the person you’d imagine as Reggie’s friend. He made no move toward me.

“He didn’t tell you about me?” I asked.

“No,” Sean said.

I stood up, which made him take a step back.

“He would’ve told you if I’m dangerous,” I said. “But call him if it’ll make you feel better.”

He took another step back, pulled out his phone and pushed a button on the face. Then he turned his back on me and I heard a one-sided conversation, although it wasn’t too hard to guess what was being said on the other side.

“Hi. Yeah. Um, there’s this woman here. Yeah. Yeah.” Sean glanced over his shoulder at me. “Really? Yeah. Are you sure? But how come I’ve never heard … From the—Reg, come on. Really? If you say so. Yeah, sure. Okay.”

Sean put his phone away and turned to stare at me.

I could only take it for a few seconds before I giggled and spread out my arms a little. “Not what you expected, huh?”

“Seriously?” he asked. “From the past?”

“That’s right. You might be surprised to know that some people in 2015 know who you are. I mean, I think they think you’re fictional, but still …”

Sean looked a little pale.

“I think you’d better sit down,” I said, stepping away from the door. “If you want me to stay out here, I will.”

He continued to stare at me as he stepped closer to the door. I noticed that he didn’t have a key in his hands, which were both clutching at the strap of his backpack as if it was a safety line.

“Um, a key usually helps,” I offered.

“Key?” he asked. “For what?”

“The door.”

“What door?” His shoulder bumped against it so he glanced at it. “Oh.”

He bent down to peer at a little rectangular panel on the right side of the door. Seconds later, the door popped open.

“Wow.” I stepped forward. “Retinal scanner?”

Sean stumbled through the doorway into the apartment. He half-shut the door and stared out at me.

I stepped back. “Sean, I’m not a ghost or anything. I won’t hurt you. Do you want me to go away?”

“Actually, yes.” He closed the door.

Well, I didn’t expect that. So much for what he would say to me.

Shop Locally

I know the phrase is usually "shop local," but I have trouble with that so I hope you'll forgive me for my title. Once an English major ...

However you want to say it, it's a good plan to shop the smaller stores in your area. I'm not one of those people who will say the big chains are evil, because they do employ a lot of folks, but it's nice to support the entrepreneurs who start a business in your town/city/community. I've never had the courage to try it, but my mother ran her own bookstore successfully for years, so I know how much it means for customers to bypass the big chain store and stop by the smaller shop.

As a writer, I also want to support my local bookstores. I've had copies of my novels in the Vintage Stock store in Northpark Mall in Joplin, MO, for a few years now, but since Hastings closed, I've been unable to offer them in Pittsburg, KS. That has now changed! All three of my novels are now available at Spellbound Bookstore and Cafe in Pittsburg!

Here's their Facebook page: Spellbound Bookstore on FB

I want to thank Brett for taking a chance on my novels and offering them in the new location at 1012 S. Broadway. Check them out if you get the chance!

Thanks again for your support.

Song and Color

Spring is (officially) less than a week away! (At least in the Northern Hemisphere.)

Everyone probably notices different things at this time of year. For me, it's the longer days and the birds. It's so nice to get home from work and still have daylight so I don't feel like it's already time for bed. I feel more motivated to get things done and less inclined to just plop down in front of the TV. (That always changes when baseball season starts, but I digress ...)

And the birds! Already we have killdeer announcing their presence in the parking lot of my place of work. Cardinals, titmice and robins are singing. Red-shouldered hawks are calling out in circles overhead. Chickadees are warning me away from the bird feeder, which has been visited by goldfinches, house finches, red-bellied woodpeckers and more. It's as if abundant feathered life has spontaneously sprung into existence to enrich my days.

Before long, the plants will follow them into renewed life and color.

Winter has its place in my life, but I'm never sorry to let another one fade away.

Have a joyous spring full of discovery.

(And happy Pi Day!)

Spring Forward

Now that I have In the Shadows done, I can just sit back and put my feet up, right?

Not exactly.

For one thing, I'm still trying to drum up interest in it through this blog, Facebook, word of mouth, etc. And I'm working on another video to possibly catch the eye of people who might not otherwise have heard of the Penumbra series.

Then there's the fourth novel. Oh, yes, there's another one ... and I've learned my lesson with In the Shadows: this time I won't be waiting until September to start working on it. That was my fault and caused me all sorts of problems last year, so I'm going to try to avoid it this time. I'm working on a particularly difficult scene today (sorry, no hints yet!).

Does this mean I spend all of my time on the novels? Certainly not (although sometimes I wish I could spend at least a little more time on them). I have this thing called a job and it takes up quite a bit of time. Until some rich person feels like paying me to write, I'll be going there on weekdays.

But I do other fun things, too. I'll be joining my Audubon group tomorrow to trek into the country and look for short-eared owls. Trooping across a muddy field is well worth it when you get to see such amazing creatures (I'll let you decide if I'm talking about the owls or my fellow Auduboners).

So life goes on. I'm just glad it's going on while the temperature is starting to go up again! Longer days, too!

Thanks again for your support. Please keep spreading the word.