The old adage, writewhat you know, has never been as pertinent to me as whenwriting character flaws, quirks, phobias, and mannerisms. I am one of those authors who draws from real life as much as I can to make my characters feel more alive, fully formed and fleshed out.
Case in point: fears and phobias.
We all have fears. They are a normal part of the human condition and are there, inside us, to keep us safe. Fear of being burned is what prevents us from running into a building engulfed in flames.
But phobias are different. They don't seem to be naturally formed in our brains but occur for a myriad of reasons that propel people to a psychiatrist's coach every day.
I love having my characters possess phobias because it gives an insight into their brains, emotions, and the way they handle stressors.
I had one heroine be absolutely phobic about spiders, to the extent when she spotted one in her house, she moved out to a hotel until an exterminator cleared the place. Now, this situation I handled with a great deal of humor, but to a person afflicted with real arachnophobia, this situation wouldn't be funny. And it wasn't to my character.
For an alpha male hero, I gave him a phobia about flying. His aerophobia was so real that he got physically ill at the thought of being up in the air. When the only way he could rescue the kidnapped heroine - and his love interest in a ticking timebomb situation - was to board a two-seater puddle jumper and head for the jungle, he was so conflicted and so terrified, he white-knuckled even the prospect of getting in the plane, determined to find another way.
He didn't and wound up in the passenger seat. Again, this scene was handled with a great deal of humor, but I've known people who will take any mode of transportation no matter how slow, just to avoid getting on a plane.
Personally, I have a phobia - a paralyzing one - about bees. I was stung by a wasp as a child and have never been the same when I see anything flying in the vicinity - including flies. But bees? That's a whole 'nother kind of crazy I put myself through. My apipohobia ( or melissophobia) is so real that when I even hear a bee buzzing anywhere around me, I immediately feel like I've been injected with a paralytic anesthetic. I can't move. I can barely breathe. I begin to sweat, my heart rate triples, and I can't feel my tongue anymore.
I am a homebody by nature. I like nothing more than being in my own house, sleeping in my own bed, and using my own shower. I have all the things I love and need surrounding me in just the place I want them. I know where my toiletries are without thinking; I can pull the correct pot I need from the cabinet without even looking; my clothes are always in the right place. I don't need to go out to eat a meal - I just open the fridge and cook something.
My television is pre-programmed to the shows I watch routinely.
See? Homebody!
I grew up in New York City and the first time I was ever on a plane was when I was 21, Vice President of my College's student nurse organization, and I had to fly to Minneapolis for a convention.
I couldn't wait to get back home.
Over the course of my 62 years, I've been to Ireland ( twice), England (twice), Barcelona ( once) Acapulco ( once), 20 US States, Montreal and Quebec ( once, each), Bermuda ( twice) the Bahamas ( once), Nova Scotia ( once) and Hawaii ( once - this was my favorite trip and the only one I cried over when I had to come home!) Iceland( once - worst trip ever!)
Each trip was lovely and except for Hawaii, I couldn't wait to get home again.
I think I've traveled enough.
My husband is a traveler. If he could, he would travel 6 months of the year. I have never had the desire to be away from home.
Maybe it's because I had such a disruptive upbringing. We moved multiple times - sometimes 2-3 times in a year - because money was scarce and rent was high, sometimes impossible to pay.
I never felt like I belonged anywhere permanently. Some would think because of this itinerant upbringing I would be a natural traveler.
Nope. Once I found my forever home I vowed to stay put...forever.
So, my bucket travel list, for now, is empty. I am content to sit at home, play with the dog, visit my grandson, and simply bask in the familiarity of my life.
Hard to believe we are finally going to put a pin in 2021 in a few days. I mean...come on - this hasn't been the best year for the world, has it?
To put things in perspective, though, my little world did okay in 2021. No one in my immediate family got Covid or any of its variants because we were all hyper-vigilant: got vaccinated, got boostered, never stopped wearing masks in public, vigorous handwashing, and avoided crowds.
It can be done, kids. If more people would get with the program we'd be through this by now.
Enough soapbox.
2021 saw a surge in my writing and publication. 7 books done and out in the reading world; one new publisher; a couple contest wins and many new writing avenues opened for me.
Not too bad.
On a personal note ( well, a few of them!) my first grandchild was born. I've always heard that your first grandchild changes you. It did. It made me more concerned about the future of our planet, our democracy, my own health -because I want to be around to see him grow to adulthood and beyond - and my legacy for when I am gone.
To that end I've embarked on a road I should never have been out on: extreme weight loss. So far I've lost 20 pounds, which if you know anything about weight loss after 60, is amazing. I have another 30 to go and that's one of my looking forward goals. I want to maintain my health and physical mobility until I die and doing this is the best way to ensure that. Wish me luck.
As far as 2022 goes, I've got many things on the docket that look promising.
I've got a new publisher I'm thrilled to be working with.
I've got 8 books planned for release this year, two of them in multiple author packs.
We've got a family trip planned for July - our first in 3 years.
We've got one big family wedding planned for May.
I turn 62 in May, as well. That's a significant number because if I wanted to I could get social security now. Not going to, but just knowing I can is something.
I've got three major book signing events I'm traveling to in 2022. I haven't been to a major signing since 2019 and the last RWA I attended.
I hope, looking forward as well, we can get out of the grips of this virus. I don't want to see one more child have to wear a mask to school or one more person be unable to hug and visit with friends.
I hope serious change will be made in how we take care of the poor, the mentally ill, our children, our environment, our planet.
I hope we can finally - FINALLY - recognize that we are more alike than different and understand the differences don't make us bad people.
And I hope health, happiness, success, and a sense of peace is prevalent in my life, everyone I know, and the world as well.
Happy Holidays, everyone.
May joy, love, peace and happiness fill your days and warm your hearts
I've always espoused the thought that change is good. It may not seem like it at the time the change is occurring, but hindsight having perfect vision, inevitably I realize whatever changed in my little universe was for the better.
I do wish, sometimes, though, the things that change wouldn't do so in such a concurrent and fast manner, but take a little time and allow me to settle into everything.
Case in point: September 2021.
I'd missed a six month check up for my routine biannual dermatology appointment due to Covid, so I'd gone an entire year without getting checked out. To the average person in my age group, this wouldn't have been a problem. For me, it is - and proved to be. I have a history of melanoma. I've already been treated five times for it in the last three years and my derm guy had me on a three month, then six month return just to ensure all was well.
The September appointment proved all was not.
After three biopsies, two of which came back with recurring melanoma, I am now due for surgery this week to -hopefully - correct the issue. The change in my status from thinking I was cured, to finding out I was not was a bit...disconcerting, to say the least.
The day after my biopsies I received a call from my mother that my stepfather was being taken to the emergency room with severe stomach pain. Long story short - he had to have an emergency cholecystectomy ( gall bladder removal) and required a 3 day post op stay due to his age and cardiac status. My mother, who is now wheelchair bound due to her recent hip fracture, needed to be cared for in her home, so, as the only child, I drove back and forth daily to the state they live in and made sure she was fed, bathed, and okay.
Once he was discharged, the change in his physical status was profound. He is slower, less sure of himself walking, and if I had to put money on it, a little less quick mentally, as well. The change in their lifestyle one year ago, prior to Covid, has been profound for them - and not in a good way.
Two bright spots of change also occurred, simultaneously with everything else.
September brought forth the birth of my first grandson - two weeks early. He came into the world at 2 am on a Thursday and none of our lives - especially my daughter's and her husband's -- will ever be the same.
And I signed a book deal with a new publisher for me for 5 books to be put into the world in the next 2 years. This is my first new publisher in three years and I am trying to adapt to all the change not being an indie author at the moment brings with it.
The world around me had suffered through a ridiculous amount of change this past month as well. The removal of troops from Afghanistan; the rising spread of the delta variant; the number of deaths from Covid; the lingering issues with the economy; hurricanes, fires, and tornados. It's been a momentous month - and not in all good ways.
Do I still think change is good? Yes, in the long run, I do. But as I said, I just wish it would take a little slower to happen at times so I could catch up and not feel as if I am always chasing my tail to do so.
If you listen to any of the local/state/national news programs on any given day, you would think the entire world is imploding. Or, as my grandmother used to say - often!- going to Hell in a handbasket.
From religious wars, to the opioid crisis, to the never-ending Covid pandemic; the racial inequality and injustice we have in this country, the gender divide, even the stalemate in our own government about anything and everything, makes it seem like we have nothing to live for, nothing to be happy about, nothing to be thankful for.
My husband's cure for this is to simply turn the news off. Out of sight, out of mind, according to him.
That's a little too much like being an ostrich with its head in a hole during a wildebeest stampede for me. I prefer to be informed, but I don't let the state of the world as we've come to know it, influence my psyche.
The reason? Every day I am grateful to be alive.
Truly.
I know it sounds sappy to some, but I am so happy to be on this earth right now. I wake daily with the first thought being, This is a new day. New opportunities to latch on to. New challenges to overcome.
And I am truly thankful I get to be present and experience them all.
Several years ago, in 1996, when Oprah was still doing her daily show, she had Sarah Ban Breathnach on as a guest. Sarah had just published The Simple Abundance Journal of Gratitudeand it was flying off the shelves ( this was preKindle, peeps!)
The description for the book on Amazon states:The Simple Abundance Journal of Gratitude offers insight via uplifting, inspirational quotes and gives women a place to record their daily moments of gratitude. Through daily practice, this journal can help you embrace everyday epiphanies: profound moments of awe that forever alter your experience of the world.
I'm gonna take a stab in the dark and claim it was with the advent of the book for sale that journaling became a hot "thing."
I was one of the 5 million buyers who purchased the book, and its predecessor SIMPLE ABUNDANCE, and read it diligently every day for a year and recorded the 5 things I was grateful for every day.
The simple exercise of waking every day and immediately thinking of 5 reasons why you are or can be thankful today, helped me so much deal with anxiety, depression, and feelings of self-worthlessness.
I don't write my daily 5 down anymore, but I do think about them during the day.
This morning's 5 things were:
1.I am grateful to be alive
2. I am grateful for my health and that of my family
3. I am grateful I believe in science
4. I am grateful I have kept my parents alive and healthy during the pandemic
5. I am grateful I am going to be a first-time grandmother in 6 weeks.
So again, I am thankful every single day to be alive.
I must admit that this month's topic -- Peace --was a difficult one for me to wrap my brain around and write about. Usually, my blogs are already written and scheduled weeks before they need to be posted. Not this month.
After much consideration and thought, I finally figured I'd write about something near and dear to me: peace of mind.
Let me 'esplain.
I've been dealing with several family issues of late at opposite ends of the life spectrum.
Many of you may know my mother recently broke her second hip in three years due to a fall at home. My parents, Mom is 85, and stepdad is 83, live in a mobile home 25 miles from me in another state. They have been self-sufficient and independent forever and they are a bit isolationist, in that they have no family ( except me) or friends. They were housebound for 16 months during the height of the pandemic and I have been relegated to managing their lives for them. I cook for them, pay their bills, shop for them and clean their house once a week. While my mother spent 2 months in the rehab center learning how to walk again, I would travel twice weekly to see her and take my stepdad to visit her. He was lost without her. They have been married almost 60 years and have done, and do, everything together as a unit. My parents never learned how to drive a car so I am their sole means of transport anywhere.
I don't tell you all this for any other reason but this: my mother was sent home last month from the rehab and since then I have been visiting them twice a week, and still doing all the above for them, but my peace of mind comes from knowing they are together again and able to continue to live in their own home. Yes, I run it for them and basically manage their lives, but they are together. My parents are that quintessential couple where if one partner dies, the other will die soon after of a broken heart.
To know I can keep them in their own home, together, until that happens makes my heart and mind calm.
The other end of the spectrum is that my daughter is having her first child in a few months. And as any potential grandmother would, I was very worried in the beginning that she would have a good pregnancy. She really didn't because she was tired and nauseous for almost 6 months - just like I was with her. Apples and trees, people; apples and trees. Plus, she got pregnant during the pandemic, so my anxiety went through the roof.
But, she has crossed over into her seventh month and all is well. She has a wonderful, supportive, and loving husband and excellent access to health care. She is healthy, happy and finally feeling like her old self. Well, as much as she can with a baby on board, so my peace of mind has returned. Yes, I'm still worried about the delivery and the first three months of the baby's life, but I am secure in the hope that all will be well.
Peace of mind is an elusive thing nowadays. Worry about Covid, the economy, my mortality and that of those around me, the horrible state of the world right now, have all taken a toll on me the last year. To be granted some peace of mind, body and spirit is a life-sustaining aspect of my daily existence.
So, I'll end with a quote that I have always loved:
I love this topic/theme this month because I am a HUGE fan of movie partnerships - be they male/female, male/male, or female/female. The dictionary defines a partnership as a relationship of two or more people. For my purposes today, it's a duo.
Some of the best movie partnerships ever made were released prior to the 1960's. You can debate this point with me all you like, but just know - I bring receipts to the table on this topic, hee hee.
Who can forget all the wonderful romantic and screwball comedies of movie partners Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn?
The studios knew what they were doing when they put these two megastars together. Both stars had class, wit, beauty, and a wry intelligence that let the audience in on every joke - even when it was about them! Although they only appeared together in 4 movies, they are all gems. Rapid-fire banter, comedic timing that's simply perfect, and two actors who could take a zany script and breath life into it while acting as foils for one another have made this duo my number one screen partnership ever!
Katherine Hepburn was also paired with a man who would become the love of her life in real life, Spencer Tracy.
Together, these two stars defined the on-screen romantic comedy partnership movies of the 1940s and beyond. They made a total of 9 movies together and their sizzling chemistry onscreen was lived out off-screen as they had an affair for over 30 years, ending only with Tracy's death.
Six movies from 1934-1947 pitted Nick and Nora Charles and their dog Asta against gangsters and murdering socialites and had them doing it all wearing evening gowns and tuxedos. A fast, witty back and forth banter, coupled with class and comedic timing, this married partnership was - and still is - a favorite among old movie buffs.
And just so you don't think I only watch old black and white movies from almost a hundred years ago ( LOL) I do have some favorite partnerships from a more recent time.
Who can forget the original Girls Gone Wild weekend movie, Thelma and Louise?
Gina Davis and Susan Sarandon epitomize the girls-who-love-each-other-as-besties and ride-or-die chicks. Their relationship is forged in friendship, moves into a deep and respecting love for one another that ends in the ultimate sacrifice. This movie proved girls can be partnered with girls, onscreen, in an unsexual way and bring in revenue for the studios. No men required.
The original Lethal Weapon movie centered around a suicidal cop ( Mel Gibson) and the man ordered to partner with him to keep him from doing something stupid ( Danny Glover).
Over the span of four blockbuster movies, these two formed a professional partnership where they truly covered the other's back in every way, and a personal friendship that also defines the ride-or-die buddy movie theme. Life and death plays a huge role in each of these movies and the two bffs and partners-for-life navigate through them with angst, wit, charm, and...guns.(LOL)
Bad Boys takes wisecracking, uber-talented Will Smith and partners him with out-of-control Martin Lawrence, to form one of the big screen's favorite and loudest(!) associations.
These two play like an old married couple, finishing the other's thoughts and sentences and being able to predict just what the other will say or do. Perfectly written and excellently acted, you get the feel Smith and Lawrence hang out together after the movie is done, shoot the breeze, and share a bottle of Cuervo Gold.
So...what makes a great movie partnership and how does it relate to social partnerships, marriage, and relationships in general, you ask? Well, I'm gonna tell ya my thoughts on that.
Every partnership above is based on mutual respect, humor, caring about the well-being of the other, having the other's back in every conceivable way, and a deep, abiding friendship and love that can't be broken.
Isn't that what we want in our own personal relationships?
Don't we want someone who can make us laugh, have our six( Jethro Gibbs reference, there), protect us, respect us, and care for us, all the while letting us be who and what we are and supporting that?
Emotional give and take, clear-cut communication techniques, and an overwhelming sense of rightness at wanting to be together, cap the list.
If you want to take a master class in writing witty banter, learning the yin and yang that makes a great couple, or merely want to be entertained for a few hours, check out the movie partnerships above. You won't be disappointed.
I've tried to incorporate all the characteristics I love in movie partnerships in my own romance books and I think I've been fairly successful. One place where a successful pairing is key is in the romantic suspense department. My upcoming ROM/Suspense A PRIDE OF BROTHERS: AIDEN is a story built on mutual respect and trust between Private Eye Aiden Keane and Librarian Alexis Buckley.
Look for this book to be released in the Fall of 2021. Book one in the series, A PRIDE OF BROTHERS: RICK is available now.
Want to connect? Here's where to find me most days ( when I'm not watching old movies! LOL)
There are so many places I could take this post with just that word alone.
I could write about romantic love since that's how I make my bread and butter, hee hee.
I could write about love of country; of family; of chocolate chip cookies.
I could write about falling in love, or, conversely, falling out of it; marital love vs. courtship; why I love babies, movies from 1939, and Diet Mountain Dew. I could write about love songs, how love is depicted in films, why love is a central theme in life.
I could tell you my favorite quotes about love. In fact, that's what I think I'm going to do.
Can you imagine how you would feel if the person you loved said this to you??
McCartney and Lennon had it right....
This thought is everything!
This one speaks to my very soul....
and my absolute favorite....
There must be some reason, somewhere, for why Valentine's Day, the day devoted to all things love, is celebrated in February. I'm sure if I had the time and the desire to, I'd look that up! For now, though, suffice it to say I'm happy at least one month/date of the year is all about the emotion I think makes the world go around: love.
Happy Belated Valentine's Day 2021, peeps. Until next month ~ Peg
One of my favorite quotes of all time is from the amazeballs Maya Angelou, and I repeat it to myself often.
Never has this thought been so profound in my writing life as it is right now.
When I started writing as a child I wrote like a, well, child. My short stories were a series of "and then his happened-s," run on sentences, and prose packed with adverbs, flowery descriptions and analogies that had no real comparatory basis behind them. My fiction read more like a diary entry than actual crafted story telling. But I found great joy in the writing.
My graduate thesis was written from a scientific methodology viewpoint, and reads like the driest medical tome ever penned. Facts, figures, graphs, statistics. Boring with a capital BORING. But I loved writing it.
As I began writing non-fiction articles on motherhood and the life of a 30-something for magazines after I had my daughter, I wrote with an easy, I'm-just-talking-to-you-over-coffee style. Nothing craft-heavy at all, no real plot or story structure, just a simple imparting of info laced with humor and self deprecating insights. Writing these articles was a labor of love that made me feel lighter and more confident with myself as a new mother and a woman trying to navigate through a crazy world.
Even blog writing, which is more of a conversation with me in the driver's seat brings me a sense of purpose and accomplishment. I can pop a blog post out in less than a half hour most days, never have to edit it for content - only spelling mistakes - and then hit post without worry. Love that!
When I first began writing fiction in my 50's I knew nothing about plot, structure, conflict, subplot, sub-text, or character motivation. I simply had a story in my head and wanted to get it on paper. I look at my debut romance novel, SKATER'S WALTZ from The Wild Rose Press, now and think, yeah, it was a decent story...but really could have been better. But I wrote that book with such joy in my heart during a time in my life that was very challenging. The sense of accomplishment and utter jubilation that it was actually published was a top ten event in my life.
Now that I write romantic fiction in a few sub-genres - RomCom, Contemporary, Romantic Suspense lite - I have to write in a way that brings the reader into the story, gets them hooked on the characters, and that leaves them at the end of the book satisfied and wanting more from me. I have an obligation to the reader to present a satisfying product to them.
No easy feat, this, and one which - daily - gives me agita! I've gotten too worried this past year about selling books, marketing, and learning new digital ways to publish just to get my books in front of people that I've lost my way a little in the writing from my heart department. The joy just hasn't been there and I think it's shown in my writing.
So, after close to 30 books published, I've decided to do something that sounds a bit crazy, and, in all honesty, probably is.
I'm starting over.
See? Crazy.
What it really means is that I'm going back to basics, armed with the wisdom I've managed to gather these past 5 years since I was first published. Readers want a story that they can tell the author just loved writing. They want to fall in love with the hero and heroine much the same way the characters fell in love with one another, and that the writer did as well as she was bringing them to life.
I want that, too.
Those are the books I want to read, the stories I want to fill my soul.
They are also the stories I want to write.
So, with age and experience, comes wisdom and I am taking that wisdom into 2021 and writing my heart out. I've got a list of books that will be written and released this year, some traditionally published and several new indie releases as well. I'm not worrying about marketing, sales, getting on bestseller lists, or even winning any awards this year.
What I am going to do is simply write my heart out because that's what makes me happy. And I know when I'm happy, my readers are, too.
See? I know better now...so I'm going to do better.
This month's prompt is to introduce you dear readers to our current WIP - Work in Progress. At any given time I'm usually working on 3-4 projects all at once, so I've picked this year's holiday release to tell you about.
I love writing about families, and my fictional Italian/American family, the San Valentino's is one of the most near and dear to my heart.
In MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA, the Aunt Gracie faction of the family is described.
Here's the blurb to the book:
Finding a body in the freezer of the family deli isn’t the way Madonna San Valentino planned to start her day.
Adding insult to injury, the investigating detective is the one guy she’s never been able to forget. After seven minutes of heaven in the back seat of his car when they were teenagers, Tony Roma skipped town without so much as a thanks for the memory.
Just when Madonna thinks the present situation can’t get any worse, Tony is ordered to go undercover at the deli to ferret out a killer. Forced to work together, she vows to keep their relationship cool and professional. But with the sexy, longing looks he tosses her at every turn, Madonna’s resolve is weakening.
With Christmas drawing closer and Tony’s investigation taking an unexpected turn, Madonna is at her wit’s end. Can she really be falling for him again? And will he wind up leaving her broken hearted and alone like the last time?
Madonna is the oldest of 6 children, the five coming after her all rambunctious, obnoxious boys that she was more mother to than sister. They've made her life...interesting, to say the least.
And here's a little taste from between the first scene:
The moment I arrived at the deli I knew something was wrong.
The back door stood opened and unlocked, two things my obsessive/compulsive father made sure never happened. Since I was the first one to arrive every morning at the crack-ass of creation, and had to plug in the security code on the wall box in order to gain entry to the store, the door should have been locked and alarmed.
My daily bread delivery, courtesy of my cousin Regina and her bakery, sat outside the door in a large wooden crate. After grabbing it I hip checked the door wide open.
The second sign something was amiss were the lit lights in the entrance hallway. I arrived at work when it was still dark no matter if it were Daylight Savings time, or Standard, and I routinely had to fumble to find the wall switch and illuminate the back end of the deli.
Not today.
And then there was…the smell.
I’ve been around raw meat my entire life. I grew up in my mother’s kitchen and I’ve worked in the delicatessen my father owns and operates since I was ten years old. The aroma of animal blood is as recognizable to me as my mother’s knock-off L’air du temps. Although, admittedly, mama’s perfume smells way better.
The scent filling the air this morning was…wrong.
“Hello? Is someone here?”
An eerie sense of quiet surrounded me. I put the bread crate down on the linoleum floor and crept along the corridor leading to the front of the store. I slid my hand across the wall, my huge purse positioned in front of me like Wonder Woman’s golden shield of protection.
Being the oldest of six kids and the only girl in the mix, it takes a lot to scare me.
My brothers are, each and every one of them, a pain in the ass to their cores and I’d grown up the victim of their arguably stupid shenanigans too many times to count. Cooked linguini placed in my bed to look like worms; a farting cushion placed on my chair at the dinner table; toothpaste spread on my school lunch sandwich instead of peanut butter. More times than I could remember one of them would hide in my closet then jump out at me when I least expected it. Anything and everything dumb and dumber they could think up to annoy me, they’d done. And still did to this day if they thought they could get away with it. Chronological maturity hadn’t made its way to their brains yet and they all still acted liked little boys when it came to infuriating me.
This spine tingling sense of unease rippling through me didn’t feel like one of their usual pranks.
But with my brothers, you never know.
“I swear on all that’s holy, Giacomo,” I called out, naming the brother voted most likely to do something moronic, “if this is some dumbass attempt to scare me, I’m gonna make you suffer.”
Intrigued? Hee hee. I have a publication date of 10.14.2020 so look for it soon on Goodreads, and Amazon preorder.
Have you met any of the other branches of the San Valentino tree? You can, here:
I simply love the topic this month: Share you favorite children's book.
Honestly, this was the fastest blog piece I've ever penned.
On my own blog, Writing in my Oxygen, I've talked numerous times over the years about my number one book for children, the one I always give as a gift to expectant mothers, or when I've been invited to toddler birthday parties.
Now, I'm going to be honest and tell you I didn't read this book as a child. In fact, I'd never heard of it until my own daughter was born, 30 years ago. The book was given to me as part of a baby shower gift and when I read it after every one had gone home, I fell absolutely, head to toes in love with the message within its pages.
Self motivation and self actualization flow from this story so effortlessly, that even as an adult I was rooting for that little engine to get up over the mountain. The theme of the book - believing in yourself - is such a wonderful, universal theme that even today in various aspects of my life I find myself thinking you can do it at times when I am questioning myself.
That little engine told himself time and time again, around every twisty curve, up every steep hill, I think I can.The phrase is repeated so many times in the book THAT should be the title! I THINK I CAN.
The best part of the tale - for me - is the ending where the engine, having gone over the punishing mountain, around all the dangerous, twists and turns, and has reached his final destination declares, I knew I could.
As adults, how many times have we felt that we couldn't go on? Complete a task? Even make it through another day of seemingly insurmountable problems? In this day and age and with so many things coming up on a daily basis that require our time, focus, and energy, there are moments when we all feel that we just can't go on. We can't take on one more project, tackle one more dilemma, deal with one more emotional issue. It just gets to be...too much.
The message of The Little Engine that Could is to just believe that you can do anything you set your mind to if you, in fact, believe you can do it.
For me, personally, I would never have tackled a brand new writing career at the age of 55 if I didn't have some of that little engine's gumption in the back of my mind. I thought I could write something people would read. I thought I could get what I wrote published. I knew I'd made my dream come true when my very first publisher bought my book.
Self actualization and belief in yourself are things we should teach our children from the get-go in life. That's why I now give this book at every baby shower I attend, and at most children's birthday parties I'm honored to be invited to.
Believe in yourself...as Martha Stewart says, "It's a good thing."
My newest book, a fairy tale redux of Sleeping Beauty, titled WOKE, releases on 7.1.2020. In my version, Aurora doesn't wait for love's true kiss to awaken her...
Waking up each day is a gift…. On her 21st birthday, someone slipped a potent drug combination into socialite Aurora Brightwell’s champagne putting her in a coma for the next ten years. It’s been a long road back, and it’s time to reclaim the life she lost and find out exactly what happened on that fateful night. Financier Kincade Enright has his own reason for helping Aurora discover who poisoned her, but for the time being he’s keeping that - and his true identity - to himself. What he can’t keep hidden though, are his growing feelings for the one-time paparazzi darling and party-girl. When this prince of finance joins forces with the former sleeping beauty, nothing can stop them from finding the answers they seek…or prevent the powerful emotions developing between them as they search for the truth.
Peggy Jaeger writes contemporary romances and rom coms about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them.
Family and food play huge roles in Peggy’s stories because she believes there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal…or two…or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, Peggy brings all aspects of life into her stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness, and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents she longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through her books, she has created the families she wanted as that lonely child.
As a lifelong diarist, she caught the blogging bug early on, and you can visit her at peggyjaeger.com where she blogs daily about life, writing, and stuff that makes her go "What??!"
It's no secret that writers are readers first. I know I was - and still am.
As a child, before I had disposable income of my own, I got all my books from the local library. It was wonderful to be able to stop by any day and take out a number of books to read. The one drawback? I had to return them. I really wanted to keep them, too, but couldn't.
Flash forward to the time when I began making my own money and could spend it on things I wanted. Did I purchase fabulous clothes? Travel to exotic locations? Drive a luxury car?
Nope. I bought books. Hardbacks, paperbacks, new and used. Books were my binge purchase, my addiction.
Still are.
When I lived in a big city I purchased all my books from Borders, or Barnes and Noble.
Then I moved to a small town. No more Borders. No more B&N. Just one, small bookstore that I feared would never carry the kinds of books I liked to read and own.
Silly me.
I happen to be lucky enough to live in a town that has its own independent, locally run, owned, and operated, bookstore, THE TOADSTOOL BOOKSHOP. Cute name, no? Heehee
This little bookstore - and I only say that because it's not the 40,000 square feet of a Borders or B&N - carries every imaginable book and many more I could never have foreseen or thought about. If I come to them after hearing about the newest-you-have-to-read-this-today book, and they don't have it in stock, they order it and have it for me lickity split. I tried having Borders order me a book, once. Once is the definitive word in that last sentence. Suffice it to say, I never asked again.
Independent bookstores are, at their heart, community based. Many times they are a gathering place for the locals in the area. They support writing groups of all genres, even offer their space to monthly writing groups. They promote local authors and are always looking for ways to garner more sales for their local writers. Indie Bookstores can truly be seen as one of the first purveyors of SHOP LOCAL. They are able to provide jobs for their community and thereby give back to the community - and they do give back in so many ways, something big box bookstores and Amazon do not. Story times for children, teen nights to get young adults interested and engaged in reading, summer reading programs for children and adults of all ages. All these programs are organized and provided by indie bookstores. When was the last time you saw Amazon read a story to a bunch of kids? Yeah...I didn't think so.
For me, personally, THE TOADSTOOL has been instrumental in getting my name out into the world of romance readers in my area by organizing book signings when I have a new release, or promoting and sponsoring Meet the Authors nights for genre groupings such as romance, mystery, Sci-Fi. The support - professionally, individually and even for me, emotionally, of my Independent bookstore is profound. My store even has a shelf devoted just to....me.
Now I could tell you all the ways indie bookstores have suffered since Amazon showed up. Initially, some closed, then more, and more until finally there was a worry we would never have anything but Borders-type stores. When that chain went the way of the dinosaur - again because of Amazon - it was a turning point for indies. People began to see their indie bookstores as the Davey to Amazon's Goliath and gathered around the underdog. Today, despite Amazon's hold, Indie bookstores are thriving.
They may be taking a bit of a beating during the pandemic, but I am certain that once we are no longer quarantined as a society, Indie bookstores will one of the first gathering places we see filled with people.
If you are lucky enough to have an indie bookstore in your town, please - if you don't already support it - do so now. The benefits of shopping local and supporting a business that provides so much for your community, is profound.
Celebrate Independent Bookstores. It's a good thing. *** I'm editing this to take an idea from Judith and run with it: PLEASE everyone who reads this, put up a link to your favorite Indie bookstore, whether it be in your town, or just one you shop at close by!! Let's flood the blogging world with out favorite book shops!
Peggy Jaeger is a contemporary romance writer who writes Romantic Comedies about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them. If she can make you cry on one page and bring you out of tears rolling with laughter the next, she’s done her job as a writer!
Family and food play huge roles in Peggy’s stories because she believes there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal…or two…or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, she brings all topics of daily life into her stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents she longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through her books, she’s created the families she wanted as that lonely child.
When she’s not writing Peggy is usually painting, crafting, scrapbooking or decoupaging old steamer trunks she finds at rummage stores and garage sales.
A lifelong and avid romance reader and writer, Peggy is a member of RWA and her local New Hampshire RWA Chapter.
As a lifelong diarist, she caught the blogging bug early on, and you can visit her at peggyjaeger.com where she blogs daily about life, writing, and stuff that makes her go "What??!"
Releasing 5.20.2020 VANILLA WITH A TWIST a One Scoop or Two summer romance from The Wild Rose Press
Tandy Blakemore spends her days running her New England ice cream parlor, single-parenting her teenage son, and trying to keep her head above financial water. No easy feat when the shop's machinery is aging and her son is thinking about college. Tandy hasn't had a day off in a decade and wonders if she'll ever be able to live a worry-free life.
Engineer Deacon Withers is on an enforced vacation in the tiny seaside town of Beacher's Cove. Overworked, stressed, and lonely, he walks into Tandy's shop for a midday ice cream cone and gets embroiled in helping her fix a broken piece of equipment.
Can the budding friendship that follows lead to something everlasting?
The theme this month is Marching to the Beat of a Different Drummer.
If they ever write a biography starring me, that's definitely the title. With the subtitle Shit Happens!
For as long as I can remember - and that's pretty far back - I haven't been like anyone else in my family. Let me explain...
My family members smoke and drank. Often. To excess, many times. I have never had a cigarette and don't drink alcohol.
My parents never graduated from high school and certainly didn't go to college. I have a Masters Degree in Nursing Administration with a minor in Geriatric Psychology.
My parents have never been on a plane or traveled outside the United States. I've already filled up two passports.
My parents, although raised Catholic, haven't been inside a church since I was married 33 years ago. I attend Mass every week.
My parents don't read. Anything. Not newspapers, not books, not magazines. All the information they get is from television. I not only read 2-3 books a week, I write 3-4 per year, and I have have a daily blog, plus I write monthly columns for 2 other blogs and participate in a weekly blogging challenge through Long and Short Reviews e-zine.
My parents are isolationists. They have no close friends and rarely leave their house. I have a wide circle of friends I love, even though I'm an introvert.
There were many times in my life I truly wondered if my parents found me on a door step or a pumpkin patch because I am nothing like them. At all.
Genetics is usually a key factor in how people will behave, and what your genes don't decide, your environment will. I can't explain why my faith has carried me through my life when my parents didn't choose to participate in it. I can't explain why I knew - knew without an iota of doubt - that education was the way for me to advance in the world. And there's no viable explanation why my marriage has lasted longer than both my mother's and father's remarriages have.
So, I just accept the reality that for some reason I am different from the people who birthed and raised me. Those differences have led me to some amazing paths in my 59 years and will probably continue to do so. The whole nature vs. nurture hypothesis is one I think about. A lot. For me, it just seems that my true nature was, and is, to be different. Or to use the theme for this month, that it's made me march to the beat of a different drummer for all those around me and who raised me.
I write RomCom and contemporary romance books about strong women, the families who support them and the men who can't live without them. And if I had to say it, those women, too, march to the beat of a different drummer!
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