My Wandering Author’s Journey by Linda Lovely

I’ve published 12 novels, but my author’s journey has been anything but straight forward. I’ve worked with four agents, five traditional publishers, and published books under an author coop umbrella. My novels include one historical suspense, three humorous cozy mysteries, two steamy romantic suspense thrillers, two traditional mysteries, and four hard-to-define mysteries with thriller and suspense aspects and no swearing, explicit sex or excess gore.

However, there are some commonalities. All the novels feature smart, independent heroines, and romance and humor seem to sneak into the stories.

My approach to publishing is not recommended to build a loyal fanbase or make big bucks. My most profitable author friends have stuck to one subgenre, say humorous cozies, romantic suspense, or Western historicals, and written ten-plus books in a series. Though I’d love more readers and income, I’m retired so I have the luxury of exploring topics and plots that grab me and letting the stories decide how they’re best told. I write because I love it.  

Still, I have been discouraged at points throughout my journey. That’s when encouragement by author friends, like the Genre-istas, have kept me going. I can’t say enough about the importance of author community support. I might not have written a third novel without it.

So, what captured my attention for my most recent HOA Mystery series? Many cherished mystery novels feature life in small towns and villages. Consider the appeal of novels by Agatha Christie and Louise Penny, not to mention TV’s “Murder, She Wrote” episodes.

Today, homeowner association and condominium communities are the modern equivalents of Miss Marple’s village of St. Mary Mead. In fact, it’s a wonder more authors haven’t seized on these close-knit enclaves as backdrops that are ripe for page-turning puzzlers with or without a side of humor. 

In small communities, characters often know about each other even if they’ve never met. That knowledge network, reliable or not, provides a rich array of suspects. While few of us hang out with spies, billionaires, CEOs, or professional hitmen, we’re acquainted with neighbors we think of as unsung heroes, self-serving loudmouths, arrogant bullies or timid victims. The familiar characters and commonplace passions make it easy for readers to relate to the stories.

Like every human collective, HOAs are natural incubators for conflict. People aren’t clones, even when they all decide to buy an oceanfront condo or build in a mountain retreat. Some residents want stricter architectural rules, others want less. Some lobby for special assessments to add amenities, others want to slash budgets. Nature lovers oppose folks who view all trees as view-blocking weeds. Cliques form, gossip passes for gospel, and outcasts long for revenge.

What’s more, in the privacy of their homes, people cope with challenges and heartaches their neighbors never suspect—from mental health and financial crises to domestic abuse and grief for lost loved ones.   

While it’s doubtful your common-interest neighborhood has seen a murder, it’s a safe bet you’ve met many of the characters—charming and repugnant—featured in the four books in my HOA Mystery series. I also suspect your manager, if your community employs one, might occasionally mutter that “managing an HOA can be murder.”

However, just as Jessica Fletcher’s Cabot Cove is portrayed as a nice,  friendly place to call home—despite its shockingly high homicide rate—my mysteries aren’t meant to be anti-HOA raves. My heroine, a retired Coast Guard investigator, works for her friend’s property management company. The dozen plus fictional South Carolina Lowcountry HOAs the firm counts as clients showcase both opportunities and pitfalls. Some HOAs manage their conflicts well, others fail. The difference? How the individuals who serve as directors view their responsibilities.

If my latest series has any motive beyond entertainment, it’s to spotlight via fiction how HOA directors can help promote peace and harmony within their communities. True, there is no way to prevent unhappy folks from complaining about every decision. Yet, most owners will accept decisions—even ones they dislike—if their boards hold open meetings, value transparency, listen to complaints, and ensure there’s majority support for any major change.

The HOA Mysteries by Linda Lovely

HOAs can embrace pure democracy in ways that are impractical with large populations. That’s the promise of a good HOA. Beyond the Gates, my fourth HOA Mystery, is a spring 2025 release. Like all of the books in my series, it can be read as a standalone.

A Killer App, my third HOA Mystery, featured an Artificial Intelligence (AI) expert as villain. After doing a deep research dive into AI, I’ve continued to follow news about AI’s impacts on publishing and the future for human authors and readers.  As a result, I’ve presented programs designed for both author and reader audiences to increase awareness of AI’s potential perils and promise.

LINDA LOVELY

What’s next? I’ve just written the opening of a suspense thriller featuring a heroine, who is a medical researcher. The inspiration? The PhD researchers in my family who are trying to find treatments and cures for horrible diseases but are watching reliable funding vanish. Can’t tell you more without giving away the plot!

Thanks, Genre-istas and Romancing the Genre, for giving me support and encouragement along the way. Best wishes to all the authors who’ve participated and the readers who’ve kept us company.

Linda Lovely

Website: https://lindalovely.com
Email: author@lindalovely.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LindaLovelyAuthor/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/LindaLovely3
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/linda-lovely
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4884053.Linda_Lovely 

'Twas the Night Before New Year's - a Poem

by Sarah Raplee

(with apologies to Henry Livingston, Charles Dickens and Dr. Seuss)

‘Twas the night before New Year’s, and all through my home,

There was no one awake; I was up all alone.

My husband reclined with the cat on his lap,

Dog dozed on the hearth near the fire’s pop and snap.

I curled on the couch, read romance on my Kindle

And hoped that my horrible funk would soon dwindle.

I munched on dark chocolate, drank peppermint tea,

And mourned opportunities now lost to me.

When out on the deck someone pounded the wood,

I shivered and wondered who’s up to no good?

On my way to the kitchen I shook like a leaf,

Afraid I’d discover a big scary thief.

The rain-soaked boards glistened in the porch light,

Shadows danced gracefully through the black night.

Then what to my sleep-deprived eyes did appear,

But a wizened old man sporting two pointy ears!

He was dressed all in brown, wore a cape of gold feathers,

His angelic smile split a face of tanned leather.

I instantly recognized Old Father Time,

He waved a bright wand and then sang out this rhyme:

Fee, fie, foe, fum!

It’s New Year’s Eve; Why so glum?

You’ve blessings a-plenty to celebrate

And time to re-live them—it’s just half past eight!

Then, dancing a jig, he crossed the red rug

And grabbed my cold fingers and gave a hard tug.

When magic exploded like fireworks around us,

I couldn’t believe the next place that I found us!

Intensive Care Nursery, babe wrapped in fleece,

Doctor-signed papers that gave her release.

My tiniest granddaughter would be okay,

My heart swelled to bursting with joy on that day.

In dribbles and drabs,

In bits and in bites,

Father Time showed me blessings

The rest of the night.

I’ve family closer, good friends within reach,

Trips to the desert, the plains, and the beach.

Living my passion for words as I age,

Entwined with my husband, my heroic sage.

So many hours later back home by the fire,

My spirits could not have been lifted much higher.

I gave Time a hug to express my elation

And thanked him for spiritual recalibration.

“You are welcome,” he said. “But now I must fly!

Then, in the magical blink of an eye

He was gone and I gazed at the clock on a shelf

And I laughed when I saw it in spite of myself.

‘Twas the morning of New Year’s; cat stretched and dog yawned,

I told my dear husband the old year was gone.

“But the new! Oh, the New Year has come, full of promise!”

A toast and a tumble in bed paid it homage.

So to all you sad people I say, “Never fear!”

Contemplate, meditate, celebrate the New Year!

Copyright 2011 Sarah Raplee

Laugh in the Face of Danger by Eleri Grace

 I was a little stumped by this month's prompt for a bit. I love novels that can inspire a range of emotions in a reader, including side-splitting laughter, but I would probably have a hard time hitting that humorous tone even if I weren't writing in the WW2 genre. Yet, while many of my favorite authors who write humor very effectively include romance authors Kristan Higgins, Tracy Brogan, and Josie Silver, one of the funniest books I've ever read was the improbably humorous WW2 classic, Catch 22 by Joseph Heller. 

Of course, many would deem it dark humor. But Heller's mastery of satire is unparalleled. Though many of the compiled "funniest lines" you might see online are humorous on their own, context adds immeasurably. So I do highly recommend reading the entire novel to get the full effect of Heller's genius. 

“You have a morbid aversion to dying. You probably resent the fact that you're at war and might get your head blown off any second."

"I more than resent it, sir. I'm absolutely incensed."

"You have deep-seated survival anxieties. And you don't like bigots, bullies, snobs, or hypocrites. Subconsciously there are many people you hate."

"Consciously, sir, consciously," Yossarian corrected in an effort to help. "I hate them consciously."

"You're antagonistic to the idea of being robbed, exploited, degraded, humiliated, or deceived. Misery depresses you. Ignorance depresses you. Persecution depresses you. Violence depresses you. Corruption depresses you. You know, it wouldn't surprise me if you're a manic-depressive!"

"Yes, sir. Perhaps I am."

"Don't try to deny it."

"I'm not denying it, sir," said Yossarian, pleased with the miraculous rapport that finally existed between them. "I agree with all you've said.”

Catch 22, Joseph Heller 

I am in the midst of writing my third Clubmobile Girls novel, set in India and Burma, and my hero will find himself recruited into dangerous search-and-rescue work in the Burma jungles. I've found a memoir titled "Hell is So Green" by William Diebold to be particularly helpful in my quest to provide my hero with plenty of challenges. Diebold jumped into the jungles and mountains of Burma a number of times to help lead downed airmen back to an American base --- a serious business. Yet, his memoir crackles with dry and self-deprecating wit, and consistently humorous exchanges with the pilots who maintained communication with him after his jumps and during his treks through dangerous countryside. In this instance, Diebold's parachute hung up in a tree, and a native boy helped cut the lines so he could reach the ground. When he made it back to the supplies the pilot had dropped, Diebold got on the radio: "Just once, old man, just once I wish one of you jokers would drop me on the ground. I've been in trees so much lately I feel like a bird." 

Humor can be found in the darkest and lowest of times, and yes, as Lion King's Simba confidently declared, in the face of danger. As we navigate our way back to more normalcy in the coming months, I hope you all find more and more occasion for laughter and humor. 

You can learn more about me on my website or follow me on my social media accounts at Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest. 

You can find my Clubmobile Girls novels on Amazon.