Writer. Editor. Mom. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Dog owner. Award-winning author and recipe creator. Conservative Catholic with an avid interest in the supernatural. Think all that doesn't go together? Then you have to get to know me better.

While Waiting for Milestones, Do You Celebrate the In-Between? You Should.

On July 29, 1937, one ecstatic man had his dreams come true when a beautiful woman walked down the aisle to join him—in front of the altar, in holy matrimony, and in life. He wasn’t the only one who was happy; that woman was equally overjoyed. Everyone thought she was going to marry a wealthy local businessman, but instead, she fell in love with a man who had quit school at the age of fourteen when his father died to support his mother and six siblings. He was responsible, but certainly not well-to-do; it was likely they would never reach anything more than a middle-class lifestyle.

And she couldn’t have cared less.

He was smart, incredibly handsome, funny, and the kindest man she had ever met. On July 29, 2013, seventy-six years after she married him, she’ll still tell you that was the best decision of her life.

How do I know all this?

Because I’m talking about my grandparents, and this is their story.

There were plenty of milestones in their lives. The purchase of their first and only home together, her first pregnancy (sadly, their son was a stillbirth), the birth of their two daughters, their twenty-fifth anniversary, the marriage of their two daughters, the birth of six grandchildren, their fortieth anniversary… You get the idea. Those are the same milestones we all look forward to.

Thing is, they didn’t make it to their fiftieth anniversary. My grandfather died in 1986, one year short of that milestone.

If my grandmother only lived for the milestone moments, she would have missed out on so much. Scenic drives, sitting on the porch watching sunrises and sunsets, sharing meals (large holiday celebrations with family and small intimate meals together), evenings spent by candlelight when the power was out, listening to the radio…

Milestone moments are highlights, but real life happens in the in-between. (Tweet this.)

When my grandmother reminisces about my grandfather, she doesn’t tell me about anniversary parties and major purchases. She tells me about board games and shopping trips, social gatherings and carwashes. My grandmother lived in the in-between, and because of it, she didn’t miss a second of her wonderful marriage.

I wish we all could appreciate the minutes we have instead of waiting for moments that may never come. (Tweet this.)

I learned from my grandmother to appreciate the in-between. Sure, I’m often going from tennis match to football game, speed camp to school event.

Life can get so hectic that we miss living it. (Tweet this.)

But, when was the last time:

your whole family gathered around the table for a meal?
you stayed up all night talking?
you turned the television off and danced to your favorite slow song?
you said “I love you,” not because you were running out the door, but because you needed to express your feelings?

If you believe life is worth living all the time, not just during special events, then you’ve already tapped in to one secret of happiness.

If you’ve been waiting for milestone after milestone, maybe it’s time to reevaluate.

In either case, I’d like to encourage you to read Jeff Goins’s new book, The In-Between.

Jeff says, “The In-Between is a call to accept the importance that waiting plays in our lives by helping you:

Find personal meaning in the times that make the least sense.
Hone the underestimated art of living in the moment.
Experience the joy that comes with embracing inconveniences.”

The In-Between is available for pre-order, and if you buy the paperback copy now, you’re eligible for $240 worth of free gifts, too. (Click here to learn more about Jeff’s generous offer.)

For Writers: Do you let your characters explore the in-between? Plots grow stagnant if they don’t move from high-point to high-point, and character relationships are often forged in these moments. But remember the movie Speed? Keanu Reeves’s character parroted a statement Sandra Bullock’s character had said earlier in the movie. “…relationships based on intense experiences never work.” And there’s truth to that. Intense experiences make for interesting plot progression, but character feelings develop best in the quiet moments between those experiences. Give your characters time to grow in the in-between.

My grandparents lived, loved, and thrived in the in-between. Wouldn’t you like to do the same?

Do you have any in-between insights you’d like to share? Please tell us your story in the comments section.

3 Writing Lessons Learned While on Vacation

One of our favorite vacations is going to the beach. I’m sure I mentioned it before; we’ve been to Jamaica, California, Hawaii, Mexico, the Dominican Republic, and several East Coast beaches ranging from New Jersey through Florida. There’s something about a vast body of water—the breeze bringing that briny scent to your nose—and wiggling your toes in the grainy sand that just sings “relaxation” to me and my family. Having the sun warm your skin and cooling off by jumping waves… that’s one luxury my family splurges on and doesn’t feel guilty about it. Well, not too guilty.

One year, when my daughter was three, we went to Hilton Head, South Carolina with my husband’s family. We arrived on a Saturday afternoon and decided to go to Mass that evening so we would have all day Sunday on the beach. My little girl was ramping up into a full blown fit. She didn’t think she should have to go to church when she was on vacation. Finally, my mother-in-law came to our rescue and began talking to my daughter.

She reminded her that Jesus died for our sins, so it wouldn’t be nice for us to ignore him just because we were on vacation.

My daughter promptly stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. She replied, “He does that every year. You’d think he’d know not to go into that garden by now.” Then she turned to go get ready for Mass.

Yes, you read that right. She was three.

On one hand, I was mortified that she was so belligerent with us and my mother-in-law. On the other, I was proud that she remembered the story of Christ’s persecution and crucifixion.

My family still attends Mass regularly. We go every Holy Day and every Sunday, even when we’re on vacation. It’s more than just a family tradition; it’s part of who we are. Neither of my kids even complain about going. Whenever I doubt my parenting skills, I think about how accomplished my kids are intellectually, athletically, and especially spiritually, and the doubt goes away. For all my faults, we’re raising two wonderful children.

It made me wonder if there were any lessons I could take away from those experiences that would help me with my writing. And as usual, there were.

Routine, in any endeavor, gets things done.
Just as we didn’t, and don’t, stop attending Mass because of vacation, bad weather, or general inconvenience, I don’t stop writing because of those things either. The best way to complete a manuscript is the SAW method—Sit And Write. There will always be things that call you away from writing. The trick to getting your work done is to ignore those things. You can’t get published if you don’t complete your work, and you won’t complete your work if you keep walking away from it.
A change of scenery can do wonders for you.
Just as we take vacations and do things we enjoy to recharge our batteries, when I write, sometimes I get in a rut. Sometimes I even get writers block. I agree with the experts who say the best way to get past the block is to writer through it. Just write anything. But I also believe that the status quo may not be the best way to go about it. If you write in your office, try your patio. If you write in a coffeehouse, try working in the park.
Don’t try to change who you are.
In life, pretending to be someone you aren’t and abandoning your values and traditions will never result in anything positive. There are those who believe in the “fake it till you make it” philosophy, but I believe in honesty and integrity. Just as I live my life that way—no pretenses, no acting—I write that way. I’m not saying you have to write what you know. I’m just as able as the next person to write a story about a time and space traveler who defeats an alien army one hundred years in the future before it comes to and conquers Earth. Do I “know” that? No more than the next person. I mean really, who could possibly know about time and space travel and about defeating an alien army? No one. It’s never been done. But if I’m true to my writing style, if I develop my sci-fi characters the same way I develop my romance characters, if I construct my settings and weave my plot with the same attention to detail I do in my romance writing, then I am being true to myself and my abilities. And that’s what will create rich story worlds and realistic characters.

I’m sure all of you have stories in your past that are just cute little anecdotes you tell over coffee at family events. Consider looking at those stories for life lessons. For professional lessons. Do you have one or more in mind? I hope so. Why don’t you share with us in the comments section?

Four Ways a Family Game Can Help Improve Your Writing

Quite often I talk about family traditions in my blog. One that I don’t believe I covered yet is bocce.

bocce playing — By Immanuel Giel (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

The word “bocce” is a pluralized form of the Italian word “boccia” which means “bowl,” so it’s probably not surprising that, in the United States, bocce is often referred to as lawn bowling. That makes me chuckle because (1) while there is ball rolling, there are no pins to knock down, and (2) most non-Italians who know about the game play it on the beach, not their yard.

Bocce is played with eight heavy balls (bocce) around the size of a softball and one smaller ball (jack) called the pallino which is about the size of a golf ball. It can be played one-on-one, or in teams of two, three, or four.

To begin, someone rolls the pallino down the court (or beach, or lawn). Then that person bowls first, or rolls their bocce ball, trying to come as close to the pallino as possible. Then the person from the opposite team does the same. Whichever team is further from the pallino has to continue playing. Players have the option of trying to get their ball in closer than their opponent or trying to knock the pallino and the opponent ball away from each other (and hopefully get the pallino closer to one of their own bocce balls). After all the balls have been rolled down the court, one point is awarded for each ball closer to the pallino than the opponent’s closest ball within range. Scoring is pretty similar to horseshoes, but there are no “ringer” points; whether touching the pallino or near it, one point is awarded. Then the whole process starts again until one team has accrued a set number of points. In regular rules, the game goes to twelve, fifteen or twenty-one points, but you can determine what number you want to play to.

In our hometown (Vandergrift, Pennsylvania), the local Sons of Italy club had bocce courts on their property for years. The men would gather and play. For a while, leagues were formed, but that gave way to just friendly pick-ups. It was a chance for the men to get together and play a game from their heritage while enjoying the company of their friends. When we moved to Ohio, we joined the Sons of Italy there, and they had leagues that included women. We moved away before we got to participate, however, but the game was quite popular there. When we lived in Michigan, there was actually a restaurant with many indoor courts. They catered to league play, but when the leagues weren’t competing, anyone could take a court and play a game or two. We were happy to see that when we moved there; it was a way our family (our kids were little then) could all get together and do something fun.

My husband’s family takes bocce pretty seriously. My father-in-law travels with his own set of bocce balls, he wipes them clean between each toss, and he keeps a tape measure with his kit in case there is a discrepancy among players as to whose ball is closer. My husband loves the game so much, he built a court in our backyard. My kids also loved the game until they had to shovel tons of rock and gravel to complete our court. You would think they’d like to enjoy the fruits of their labors, but they only play if friends or grandparents visit. (They all get pretty competitive. I like a slightly more relaxed game.)

So why am I babbling on about bocce? Well, for three reasons.

One—no one who comes to my house knows what the court is for or what the game is, so I thought I’d offer an explanation to those of you who don’t know.

Two—it’s just another opportunity to share Italian traditions with you, so you understand more about me.

Three—there’s a lot that can be learned from the game, personally and professionally.

Personally, bocce (and any sport or game) teaches patience, hand-eye coordination, and hopefully good sportsmanship. It’s an easy enough game that young children can play (keeping them involved with family instead of alone playing their own games), intricate enough that adults can get competitive, and gentle enough that even the elderly or infirm can participate. It truly is an all-inclusive game, and if we had more activities like these, our physical and emotional health could only improve. It’s a lot better than four people in four different rooms of the house watching television or playing video games.

Professionally there are lessons to be learned, too. I’m a writer, and I’ve learned a lot that I can apply to my craft from analyzing the game.

One—practice makes perfect. Just like the first ball you roll won’t be nearly as good as one you roll after one hundred games, the first draft of something you write won’t be nearly as good as something you’ve revised. Also, the first book you write won’t go nearly as smoothly as the tenth book you write. They say you need 10,000 hours to master a task; get writing! You can fake a lot until you make it, but you can’t fake experience.

Two—sometimes you have to change strategy. In bocce, you can roll until your wrists are sore, but if a ball is blocking you, you need to shoot it out of the way. In writing, sometimes even carefully crafted plots for some reason don’t work. When that happens, the best course of action is to abandon the plan and try to take things in a different direction. Listen to what your characters are telling you. They know best what they need to do, and if they aren’t following your plan, there’s probably something better for them to do.

Three—don’t get cocky. In bocce, just because the score is 10-2 doesn’t mean you have the game in the bag. Three good turns by the other team could have them in the lead. In writing, you can’t take anything for granted. You might have a solid story and a rock-star agent, but that doesn’t mean anything. Even once you get the contract and the advance, your work isn’t over. There’s marketing to do, and you have to keep producing or the ride is over.

Four—in bocce, whether winning or losing, be a good sport. You don’t want to be the person no one wants to play with because of your attitude. In the publishing industry, always be gracious, even to someone giving you a bad critique; you don’t know who your words will reach, and you never want to have a bad reputation.

So, bocce is a fun Italian game the whole family can enjoy. The next time you see people rolling colored balls down a beach or in their yard, you’ll know what they’re doing. Take the time to watch and learn, maybe even join in. You’ll have a blast. And don’t forget to take some lessons away from the game.

What games did your family play growing up? Did you learn anything from them? Why don’t you share in the comments?

Times Change — Embracing New Traditions

We celebrated Independence Day this past week. In addition to the swimming and the picnic food, we set off fireworks. That’s one of my son’s favorite things to do. I think it has something to do with the power of the explosives and the exhilaration the display causes everyone who’s watching. The ones we set off this year were pretty good, for backyard fireworks.

labradors — Excited Casey and
Scared Max

My family enjoyed them. One of my dogs did. The other was frightened, to the point he made himself sick. Maybe next year he’ll adapt better and enjoy the show like his brother does.

My nephew, when he was young, called it a “spectacular extravaganza in the sky.” It’s cuter if you hear it coming from the lispy voice of a two year old. He’s twenty-five now, but I’m pretty sure he still likes fireworks. I don’t know anyone (my youngest dog excluded) who doesn’t like them.

Growing up, Independence Day was spent at the local festival in my hometown. There were food stands, game booths, and live bands for days. Fireworks started around 9:00 on the fourth and lasted for about an hour, culminating in a grand finale that left us all breathless. Most people stayed at the festival to watch the show, but my family always went to my grandparents’ house. Their backyard faced the field where the fireworks were set off.

Those are some of my fondest memories of childhood.

There were the years when I was very young and quite frightened that the embers would land on me. I stood on the porch under the roof and peaked out at the ones that were above my head. There were the years when I was older and stood as close to the field I could, eagerly anticipating the next explosion, and the next, and the next.

We stopped going when my grandfather passed away. My grandmother’s heart wasn’t in it anymore, and if she wasn’t celebrating, it seemed wrong to enjoy the show without her.

As the years went on, I started dating the boy who became my husband. We’d watch the fireworks from his parents’ backyard. It always left me nostalgic for my younger years, but it was nice being with the boy I loved.

Samantha/Seth toddlers — My Kids as Toddlers Ready for Summer Fun with Family

When we were married and had kids, we’d bring them to the festival and then to my in-laws’ house. They had a blast, and so did we. But time marches on, and things change. We moved away, and getting back for the festival became harder and harder. Finally we stopped going home for the festival, and now we live so far away and our kids’ schedules are so full, we couldn’t go home if we wanted to.

Not that it matters.

My town stopped having the Fourth of July Festival years ago, choosing instead to have only the church festival in August.

What’s the point of this story, you ask?

It’s so you understand that time marches on. Things change, people change, and you should embrace every opportunity that comes your way. Before long, loved ones will be gone, events will have changed or ceased to exist, and you might have to start your own traditions just to have any connection with your past. And connections with your past forge the person you are today.

backyard fireworks tradition — My grown son preparing our fireworks display.
Traditions change, but the emotions behind them remain.

My husband and I do what we can to keep family traditions alive for our kids—even when we have to change things to keep the traditions alive. Do you still keep old traditions alive for your family? Why don’t you share some traditions in the comments section below?

And writers, in addition to the family matters discussed above, consider how to apply these principles to your WIPs. Do you have family traditions that you can work into your characters’ lives? Have those traditions changed over the years? If so, for the better or worse? How do these traditions impact your characters? Don’t forget to include setting, senses, and character reactions. Maybe you could discuss a tradition you’re incorporating into your WIP in the comments section.

11 Fun Facts About Independence Day

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. -The Declaration of Independence

…………………Image courtesy of wikimedia.org, and is in the public domain

I love all holidays. Spring, summer, fall, or winter; holidays are always special. My husband is off work, the kids are home, loved ones gather, and millions of people slow down and celebrate the same event. Holidays unite people in a way that nothing else does.

Independence Day is one of my favorites. Without the actions of a determined group of people, I wouldn’t have grown up in the greatest nation in the world.

We have all year to debate governmental policies and economic platforms; Independence Day should be a day to celebrate our freedom, our unalienable rights, our liberty. And that’s exactly what my family will be doing this year, with a picnic and fireworks.

In honor of our Founding Fathers and the soldiers who gave us our great nation, I found a few “fun facts” about Independence Day to share.

1) The anniversary of our independence is not really July 4.
In a closed session of congress on July 2, 1776, the resolution of independence was approved, legally separating the thirteen colonies from Great Britain. Proof of that was found in a letter John Adams wrote to his wife: “The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival.” So why do we celebrate Independence Day on July 4th? Because that’s the date printed on the Declaration of Independence.

2) All 56 men didn’t sign The Declaration of Independence at the same time. Officially, the signing occurred on August 2, 1776, when 50 of the men signed it. For the safety of the men, their names were kept hidden from the public for more than six months. If the independence movement had not succeeded, the signers would have been guilty of treason and put to death.

3) The Revolutionary War didn’t begin with the Declaration of Independence.
The Declaration of Independence wasn’t adopted until 1776, but the American Revolution began in 1775 and lasted until 1783. This epic battle for liberty culminated with independence for the colonies and the birth of the United States.

4) The first Independence Day celebration wasn’t July 2 or July 4.
Independence Day was first celebrated in Philadelphia on July 8, 1776. In America, before the revolution, colonists would hold annual celebrations in honor of the king’s birthday. In 1976, colonists celebrated independence by holding fake funerals for King George III, symbolizing America’s liberty from Great Britain. Early Independence Day celebrations also included concerts, bonfires, parades, and canon fire.

5) Parades and fireworks mark Independence Day because of John Adams.
In the same letter John Adams sent his wife, he went on to say: “It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations [fireworks], from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.”

6) A standard flag was created to avoid confusion.
The reason a standard flag was even suggested was because colonists were all creating their own emblems as symbols of independence from Great Britain.

One was a British Union Jack sitting in the upper-left corner of a red flag with the words “Liberty and Union” (in white) adorning the field’s lower half.
The Sons of Liberty (famous for the Boston Tea Party) operated with a simple flag sporting alternating red and white stripes.
Another popular design was a coiled rattlesnake on a yellow or red-and-white striped flag emblazoned with the words “Don’t tread on me.”
Immediately before the Declaration of Independence, the most popular flag of revolution was the “Continental Colors.” This flag displayed a Union Jack in the upper-left corner on a field of red and white stripes. That particular flag created confusion in battle. Because of the presence of the Union Jack, sometimes revolutionists were mistaken for the enemy, prompting the June 14 resolution creating a standard flag.

7) The flag’s first design was unspecific; standards were adopted later.
On June 14, 1777, the Continental Congress passed the country’s first flag law. It was a brief resolution, but lacking detail: “Resolved. That the flag of the United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new constellation.” The law said nothing about the flag’s shape or size, nor did it direct the order of stripes or the size, type, or arrangement of stars. The Continental Congress adopted the first flag as a sign of national pride and unity. Flag standards were set on June 24, 1912 by an Executive Order from President Taft. For the first time, there were specific proportions given and directions for the arrangement of the stars (at that time, into six rows of eight).

8) The flag colors of red, white, and blue were never given specific meaning.
Charles Thomson, the secretary of the Continental Congress, was one of the designers of the Great Seal of the United States. In his report to Congress on June 20, 1782, the day the seal was approved, he described the colors of the seal by saying: “White signifies purity and innocence. Red hardiness and valour and Blue . . . signifies vigilance, perseverance and justice.” That is likely where the flag’s colors gained their meaning, however, no such attribution was ever given to it. Historians believe the colors to have come from Great Britain’s Union Jack. Today, the interpretations are as follows, but are not official:

……….. Colors Meaning on the Great Seal Flag Interpretation
…………..Red Hardiness and valour Blood, war, and courage
…………..White Purity and innocence Purity
…………..Blue Vigilance, perseverance and justice Justice and freedom

9) The 13 stars on the first official flag were arranged in a circle, not lines.
While there was no official law mandating the arrangement of the stars in the field of blue, the stars were said to have been in a circle so no state would be above another.

10) There is no proof that Betsy Ross sewed the first American flag.
We’ve all heard the story that Betsy Ross was approached by George Washington with a sketch he drew and she then sewed the first American Flag. That story was first told to the Historical Society of Pennsylvania by her grandson, William Canby, in 1870, nearly 100 years after the event took place. His only evidence was testimonials from his family. There is no tangible historical evidence — letters, diaries, newspaper accounts, bills of sale — that Ross (then Elizabeth Claypoole) had any involvement in the creation of the flag. Does that mean that she didn’t do it? No. In fact, there are several patriotic organizations that support Betsy Ross at the first creator of the iconic symbol, stating that she’s a cherished part of American history and is synonymous with the flag’s creation. So who actually designed the flag, if not George Washington? Continental Congress journals show that patriot and New Jersey Congressman Francis Hopkinson was the flag’s designer. No evidence has been found specifying who first sewed it.

11) Uncle Sam was inspired by a real person, but not a patriot during the Revolutionary War.
The Uncle Sam symbol probably began in 1812. The US Army was being supplied meat shipments from meat packer Samuel Wilson. Those shipments had a “U.S.” stamp on them. Someone joked that “U.S.” stood for “Uncle Sam,” the meat provider. Eventually that joke resulted in Uncle Sam symbolizing the United States government.

So, how many of these facts did you know?

Did I miss any big ones?

Share your knowledge in the comments section below, and have a Happy 4^th of July!

Image courtesy of wikicommons, painted by James Montgomery Flagg in 1916-1917 for the
Department of Defense , and is in the public domain.

How to Best Spend your Summer Vacation

Hi everyone! For those of you who follow me on Twitter and Facebook (links can be found by clicking the words or in the side panel), you’ll have noticed that I was silent this past week. Sorry for the disappearance, but I was on vacation.

Usually we go to the beach. We’ve been to plenty of them: Jamaica, California, Hawaii, the Bahamas, Mexico, the Dominican Republic, and many on the east coast (from New Jersey through Florida). We’ve done amusement and theme park vacations, zoos, cities, and even a cruise, but we always go back to the beach. Sun, sand, surf… it doesn’t get better than that.

Until this year.

This year we spent our vacation in Pennsylvania. My husband and I are both from the same home town, our kids were born there, and we still have family and friends in the area. It’s a two day trip by car, but we stayed with family on the way there and back, so it was kind of like a two-for-one vacation. Sure, I miss the beach, but I have a pool if I want to swim, and I wouldn’t trade my visit home for anything.

When we crossed through the Fort Pitt Tunnel, the sight of Pittsburgh greeting us on the other side was spectacular. The only time it looks better is at night. We saw the fountain at The Point, the Gateway Clipper fleet on the river, the city skyline, Heinz Field, the Carnegie Science Center, and after a short drive, PNC Park (where a baseball game was in progress). I would have loved to have stayed in the city. There’s so much to do there—shopping and eating at The Strip; going to the four Carnegie Museums (Art, Natural History, Science Center, and Andy Warhol); visiting the Pittsburgh Zoo, the Allegheny Observatory, and Phipps Conservatory; riding the Inclines (Duquesne and Monongahela); touring Carnegie Mellon University so the kids could see where their parents went to school; attending a Pirate game; spending a day at Kennywood Park or Sandcastle… I could go on, but we didn’t stay in Pittsburgh. As awesome as the city is, we had better things to do.

We went home to see family.

We’re from Vandergrift, Pennsylvania… it’s a little town about forty minutes northeast of the city. Its claim to fame is that it’s the first worker-owned, industrially-planned town in America. Frederick Law Olmsted, the landscape designer who designed Central Park, was responsible for designing the town. My husband and I met, dated, fell in love, and were married there. We still have a lot of family and friends in the area, and we went home to see them. That beats any trip to the beach, or anywhere else.

We spent time with my ninety-five year old grandmother, looking at old family photos and hearing wonderful tales of days gone by. We visited my husband’s grandmother and his great-aunt and uncle where we listened to stories of family and friends. We stayed with my parents-in-law, where we played games and enjoyed each other’s company. We ate many meals with my family, trying to celebrate Father’s Day and my dad’s birthday with the appropriate fanfare his holidays deserve. We spent time with siblings and their families, and ate the foods that we’ve been craving but can’t get here—both homemade and purchased items. We even attended Mass at our hometown church… a church that is a national landmark and was designed in the gothic style (something that we just don’t see here where the churches are of modern styling).

It was fabulous!

The best part was the reconnecting with family. We heard stories and histories that reinforce who we are and where we’re from. Some of the stories I’d heard before, and some were new, but they were all new to my kids, and watching them absorb their heritage was a golden experience.

I’m not sure what your vacation plans are this year. I could certainly recommend a trip to Pittsburgh. There’s plenty to do, to see, to eat… You wouldn’t be disappointed. But instead, let me recommend a trip where you can connect with your roots. That’s where the real memories will be made.

My entire family enjoyed our trip (adults, kids, and even dogs!), but I’m definitely going to benefit from our visit home. Not only were the areas good for me to revisit because my novel series is set in Western Pennsylvania, I now have fodder for several other stories as well. I bet a visit home would give you some ideas, too.

Have you ever taken a trip where you got ideas for a story? Why don’t you share the experience with us in the comments.

Happy Father’s Day, Robert A. Smith

As my regular readers know, my usual post day is Monday. But today is Father’s Day, and I couldn’t let the day pass without acknowledging my father, Robert Smith.

or all the times when I was a little girl and you came home from work tired, but not too tired to carry me upstairs. I’d wait outside your room for you to change just for you to carry me back down again. I know that was the last thing in the world you felt like doing, but you always made time for me when you got home. You always made time for me, period. It made me feel special.

nd then I’d sit with you while you ate dinner. Except when Eric Sevareid came on the television. (I don’t know why I liked him, but I’d run to the TV to watch him, and when he was over, I’d run back to you.) I always went back to you. And why wouldn’t I? You were my hero. You still are.

hen as I got older, you tried to teach me to swim and to ride a bike. (I know I wasn’t the easiest of students, but I remember your efforts. And I did finally learn!) I also remember easier days, playing cards or you pulling me on the sled in the snow. We always had such fun. I still enjoy spending time with you. I just wish we could do it more often.

ow we made it through the teen years, I don’t know. I would go to you with questions or for permission because Mom was stricter and you were wrapped around my finger, or so I thought. But we did fight. And then I’d cry. I hated having my daddy mad at me. I still do. I’m just glad it doesn’t really happen anymore.

ven though some of those times were ugly, we got through them easily with just a quick joke. Even a bad joke, or a “Bob joke” as they’ve come to be called, would do it. Once, to get out of trouble, I called you “Bob” and I said I said your name backward. Goofy, but you laughed. You never could stay mad at me. I hope that never changes.

emember when I was in college and you were helping me move out of my apartment? We had that tiny Plymouth Horizon and that other family had a huge van, but we packed my whole apartment in one car and that other family was full-up after just a few trips? We laughed about that half way home. Of course, we weren’t laughing when we moved the furniture and the couch flipped onto the Parkway. You really didn’t laugh when someone at work mentioned seeing the incident. It was a good thing they didn’t recognize us! You were always there, helping me. You made things seem easy that I know weren’t.

Dad, growing up with you as my father was the best thing that could have happened to me. You made work fun (remember spraying each other with the hose when we were washing cars?), you made play even more fun (nobody makes Clue as enjoyable as you do), and you were always there for me.

When I got married, I was so excited to walk down the aisle and start my new life with my husband. I smiled and laughed that whole morning. Everyone, even you, commented at how relaxed I was. And why wouldn’t I be? I was marrying the man of my dreams. But before I took that first step, I felt your arm tighten around mine. I remembered I had said I was worried about wobbling in my heels and you had said you wouldn’t let me fall. When I felt your arm, I knew you had me. And I knew it was the last time I’d be relying solely on you. I looked at you… and then cried the whole way down the aisle. But you didn’t really give me away. You just expanded our family and took my husband in. It’s much nicer looking at it that way.

They say girls marry men like their dads. That’s probably true to some extent. I had the best grandfather anyone could ever want. And when my mom chose a husband, she chose a man as wonderful as her father. I have the best dad ever, and when I got married, I chose a man as special as my father. I hope my daughter continues the tradition. Although, I’m not sure they still make men like this.

So thanks Dad, for all you’ve done and for all you do. I love you.

Happy Father’s Day to my father, and to all fathers today. Dads come in all shapes and sizes, and with all kinds of titles (dad, uncle, godfather, stepfather, grandfather, brother, friend), but any supportive male presence in our lives deserves this recognition.

10 Questions to Ask Yourself to Improve Your Writing

If you’re a frequent visitor to this blog, then you know I’m a writer, and occasionally I try to pass on bits of advice to help other writers in their craft. Sometimes it’s in the form of a story from my personal life, other times it’s just a straight up blog post with information.

Today is going to be a little different.

Before I continue, ask yourself the following questions:

Do you consider yourself a writer?
Have you begun shipping your work yet?
Do you know how to write and edit effectively?
Do you have a plan in place to get constructive feedback on your work?
Do you know what steps to take to have a successful launch?
Have you begun to define yourself as a brand?
Are you working on a platform so you’re more marketable?
Is your platform strong and growing steadily?
Do you know who your target audience is?
Do you know how to reach them?

Those are some daunting questions, especially to the beginner, but even to the established writer. Some of those terms may be unfamiliar to you. And you know what? I haven’t even introduced two of the most important terms yet: Cartel and Tribe.

Sometimes people bat buzzwords around and don’t really give you any solid framework with which to understand it. I’m going to do my best to help you along. Look at the questions again.

If the first five questions really got your attention, I urge you to check out Joe Bunting’s Story Cartel Course. Studying six short rules, you will learn the importance of sharing your work, connecting with other writers, writing and editing techniques, reviewing methods, and collaborating for successful book releases. The course wraps up with a series of tools designed to teach you to reach a larger audience faster. Each week, experts in the field share their knowledge and offer tips for navigating the publishing industry. Exercises help you hone your craft, and you always have support from the contacts you make in the forums. The strongest supporter of all is founder Joe Bunting, who also hosts a regular web-chat to introduce new material and answer any questions you might have. This comprehensive program gives you lifetime access to the materials and the forums, so unlike traditional classes, once you sign up, you can keep learning at your own pace for as long as you like, and access like that is priceless. I was a staff member for the pioneer run, and I thought the program was great, and Joe is continually tweaking the program to make it even better for future students. If you write fiction, this is a course you don’t want to miss. Click “Story Cartel” to register or join the waiting list, or click on the logo in my sidebar.

If the second set of questions piqued your interest, you may be more interested in growing your platform and online presence than working on your writing. And that’s great. Both the craft of writing and the discipline of marketing go hand-in-hand these days. You pretty much can’t have a successful career without both. If learning to use social media to increase your brand awareness is something you’re interested in, then signing up for the Tribe Writers course is something you should consider. This course offers eight weeks of lessons designed to help you improve your writing while increasing your platform, a large forum of current and former classmates to support your efforts and interact with, interviews from experts in the fields of publishing and social media, and regular web-chats with founder Jeff Goins, who makes certain all students feel welcome and encouraged. This program offers lifetime access to the materials and the forums, so you can work at your own pace. I was a pioneer member of Tribe Writers, and it just gets better every time Jeff offers it. If you’re looking to build a tribe of dedicated followers, you want to take this course. Click “Tribe Writers” to register or join the waiting list, or click the logo in my sidebar.

In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I’m an affiliate member of both of these courses. If you use these links, a portion of your tuition will be passed on to me. But I wouldn’t be an affiliate member if I didn’t believe in these programs, and I wouldn’t be recommending them to you if I wasn’t certain they work.

If you have any questions about either of the programs, you can email the founders, or you can ask me. I’d be happy to tell you more about my experiences in those courses.

Best wishes, and happy writing!

Four Words of Wisdom for the Graduate, or the Writer

My daughter graduated middle school this past week. Just putting my age in perspective, when I was in school, you didn’t graduate middle school, you just moved on to the next grade. Kids today celebrate every milestone. In some ways, I kind of think that’s the problem with the younger generation. They get participation trophies instead of earning their awards, no child is left behind (even if the child should be), and then when they become adults, they wonder why no one is handing them things anymore. They’re completely unprepared for the realities of life.

On the other hand, I say why not celebrate every accomplishment you can? Before too long, people will be looking for reasons to knock you down and climb over you on their way up the ladder of success. Might as well enjoy the successes while you have them and people are willing to celebrate with you.

As a parent, I know I’ll always be a cheerleader for my kids, no matter how old they are, no matter what they accomplish. My kids are quite successful, but don’t worry—I’m not going to use this as a forum to brag. Instead, I’m going to take some words of wisdom I picked up from the guidance counselor at the awards assembly. He said some things that I think apply to everyday living, and to the writer’s career as well.

1) Some people get older; some people grow up.

In life, that’s easy enough to explain. Some of the kids are getting older, but no more mature. His point is that it’s time to stop acting like a child and start being responsible. We all know that fifty year old who thinks it’s funny to burn rubber in the parking lot and is always causing trouble at work. That person didn’t grow up. Don’t be that person.
In a writer’s career, that’s also appropriate. Some writers never mature in their writing because they don’t put the time and effort in. You can say you’re a writer for years, working on that one manuscript that no one ever sees (and that honestly, you only dabble in once a month), but to become an expert, you must write often, and you must study the craft. Read books, attend conferences, work with critique partners, submit your work for publication. Only then can you, as a writer, mature.

2) The better we handle the word “no,” the more often we hear the word “yes.”

That, too, is self-explanatory as a life-lesson. People who have temper tantrums and negative responses to a refused request will not be looked upon favorably, and that will result in another “no” when a second request is made. A responsible reaction to a rejection leaves a positive image, and therefore requests are more likely to be answered with a “yes” in the future.
In writing, rejection can come in the form of negative reviews, bad critiques, or actual rejections from agents, editors, or publishers. Written or verbal replies to these rejections that are negative (or even worse, sarcastic or scathing) show the writer to be difficult to work with and unprofessional. Why burn bridges? Sometimes the rejections come with nothing but good intentions, offering ways to make your writing better. Other times, a no is a no. But in any case, you always want to leave people with a positive impression. That “yes” could be one submission away. And don’t forget—people in the industry talk. You don’t want your name being circulated for the wrong reasons.

3) When we forget life is short, we treat it like it’s not.

Don’t leave things for another time, only to find out that time was taken from you. People move on, sometimes permanently, and you may not have a chance to say or do something you mean to.
In writing, sometimes we get career-obsessed. I have to make word count today. I need to send more tweets. I’m seventeen likes away from one-thousand followers on Facebook. Yes, writing and platforming are crucial steps in becoming successful. But life is short. Take the time to actually live,too, or all of your hard work will have been for nothing.

4) There’s never a right time to do the wrong thing, and never a wrong time to do the right thing.

If you live your life by a set of high moral standards, you’ll feel better about yourself. You won’t ever get into trouble. And, in the grand scheme of things, you’ll come out ahead, even if you don’t get every small reward you think you deserve along the way.
In writing, the thing that keeps the plot moving is conflict. If a character isn’t faced with a choice or a dilemma, then there isn’t anything happening. The rule is for the heroes to always do right and the villains to always do wrong. Here’s the caveat: there are no rules in fiction that can’t be broken. Have your hero make a bad choice. Have your villain do something nice. It’s the choices that people make—and the reasons they make them—that make them rich, interesting characters to read about. It’s okay, even interesting, to get your hero in trouble, as long as you make things right in the end.

So, those were just some of the words of wisdom we heard at the awards ceremony. I batted back a few tears, shared some smiles and laughter, and applauded with the rest of the crowd when the kids got their awards. I can’t believe both of my kids are now officially in high school. Where did the time go? I think I need to work on number three. Life is short, and I want to embrace every second of it.

What words of wisdom do you have to share, for both life and writing?

First Friday Fiction Feature — Just Say Utah

It’s the first Friday of the month. Time for another fiction installment.

A link to this story, and all prior stories, can always be found under the “My Work—Freebies” tab.

Just Say Utah

“Oh, it is so on!” Patty said, glaring at her brother and his two friends.

The boys stood in the dining room, arms crossed over their chests, smug smiles on their barely adult faces.

Patty grabbed Dana’s hand and said, “Chelsea, come on!” She yanked on Dana’s arm so hard, the shoulder joint jerked in the socket. The girls followed Patty as she stalked to the den and grabbed a game off the shelf.

“Oh, come on,” Dana moaned. “I hate Trivial Pursuit.”

“Yeah, P. That’s lame,” Chelsea said.

“Did you hear them? They think that because they go to Carnegie Mellon they’re so much smarter than we are.”

“Um, Patty. I go to Carnegie Mellon, too,” Chelsea said.

“Yeah, but they’re seniors and you’re just a freshman.” It was winter break, and they were all home from their respective schools until spring semester started. Joey had been tormenting his sister mercilessly about going to a state school, while he and his friends went to an elite private school. She was obviously desperate, again, to prove to him that she was just as smart as he was, if not smarter. It was an argument that occurred between the two of them at least once a week when they were together. She somehow always lost.

“Patty Ann, it just snowed. We can pelt them with snowballs and then go sledding. I bet your mom will make cocoa. Or mine will.” Dana hated Trivial Pursuit with a passion.

Patty took the box and headed for the dining room. “Girls against… the dumber sex. And may the best team win.”

She plunked the box on the table and grinned at the boys. “Or are you chicken?”

“Against the three of you?” Joey laughed while Troy and Mike snorted and elbowed each other. “We’ll take our chances. We’ll even give you a handicap. How many chips do you want us to spot you?”

“We don’t need a handicap, thank you very much.” Patty set up the game and grimaced at her brother and his friends.

“Come on,” Mike said. “State school versus private? What chance do you have?”

“I go to the same school you do!” Chelsea said.

“Really?” Mike asked. “How’d you ever get in?”

Chelsea lunged at him, and Patty pulled her back. The two of them had disliked each other since grade school. Mike had looked up the skirt of her uniform from under the bleachers at a school assembly and taken a photo, and then he got suspended for it. He blamed her for his suspension although she wasn’t the one who told on him. Patty saw the game getting ugly before it even started.

“Let’s keep it civil, okay?” she said, looking right at Mike. “Team meeting before we start.” She gathered the girls together.

“What’s the plan?” Dana asked.

“We each need to focus on our strengths,” Patty said. “Chelsea, you’re a writing major, so literature is you. And maybe entertainment.”

“We should all be good at entertainment,” she answered, “if the questions are new enough.”

“They aren’t. This is the first edition. My mom knows half the answers.”

Chelsea and Dana both groaned.

“Okay,” Patty continued, ignoring the girls. “I finally got into my core classes this term, so I had two sciences in addition to my teaching courses. I’ll take responsibility there.”

“Sounds fair,” Chelsea said. “I just finished two world history courses, so hopefully I’ll remember something. And if the questions are more about sports and less about leisure, we should be good between the two of us.”

“Agreed,” Patty answered. Both girls loved and followed many professional sports, so she felt confident between the two of them. Then she looked at Dana, who wasn’t even paying attention any longer. Dana was a Philosophy major. What did Philosophy majors even study, anyway? She turned back to Chelsea. “How are you at Geography?”

“I suck. You?”

“No better. I guess that’s Dana’s area, then.”

“Huh?” Dana said.

“Forget that,” Chelsea said. “She can’t find her way across the street without a map, and then she can’t read it. We’ll just have to hope for an easy chip question then.”

“Okay, I guess we’re ready,” Patty said.

“Let’s play,” Chelsea said.

Patty nudged Dana and they turned to the boys and the board. “Roll to see who’s first.”

The game consisted of more trash talk and less civility than a trivia game would have on a winter break in someone’s home. Occasionally someone ran to the kitchen for drinks or snacks, but mostly the six students stayed glued to the table, riveted by the board and the cards. After three hours, the girls were up by one chip and had landed on the Geography triangle.

“Blue for the chip!” Patty said.

“Crap,” Chelsea said so only Patty could hear. “It’s Geography.”

“We’ll be fine. Listen to the question.”

Joey read the card. “What’s the only state in America to end with the letter K?”

“End in K. What state ends in K?” Patty yelled.

“Stop yelling,” Dana said.

“Don’t tell me not to yell!” Patty yelled, waving her fists in the air. “It’s for a chip!”

“Okay, so we’ll guess the answer,” she said, and munched on a pretzel.

“Guess the answer! You haven’t guessed one answer right all day! And we’re winning! We could go ahead by two. By two! And this is geography. Geography!” Patty said.

“So guess Utah.”

Patty and Chelsea both stared at her. Joey’s eyes bulged, Mike covered his mouth and Troy turned some noise into a cough. Patty suspected it was laughter, but she was too flummoxed to address it at the moment.

“I’m sorry, what? Did you say Utah?”

“Yeah. Utah.”

Mike also began coughing.

Chelsea said, “You heard them say ‘K’ didn’t you? The state ends in K.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

Patty looked at Chelsea, whose eyes were growing wider by the second. Chelsea shook her head to clear it, like she was clearing an Etch-a-Sketch screen.

Patty said, “Okay. Let’s start at the top and work our way down. Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, New York, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New Jersey, Pennsylvania—”

“I’m telling you, it’s Utah.”

“Are you kidding me?” Patty said.

A snort burst out of Joey.

“Just say Utah.”

“Let’s start over,” Chelsea said. “Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont.”

“New York, Massachusetts, Rhode Island,” Patty continued.

“Just say Utah. It’s Utah.”

“Oh my God! What is wrong with you?” Chelsea asked.

“It’s Utah.”

“It. Is. Not. UTAH!” Patty said.

All three of the guys laughed at Patty’s outburst, but there was nothing she could say. It was ridiculous. If she heard ‘Utah’ one more time, she might shove the blue pie piece up Dana’s nose.

“Maybe if we did it alphabetically?” Chelsea said.

“Alaska, Alabama,” Patty said.

“You’re already out of order, genius,” Joey said.

“Shut up, Joe. At least I have a real major. I don’t just blow into a horn all day long.”

“Being a music major at CMU is harder than being an education major where you go, so blow on that,” he said.

“Well, I go to CMU, and I have a real major, so you both can shut up,” Chelsea said. Turning to Patty, she said, “I can’t do it alphabetically. There’s Alaska, Arkansas… too many Ks. Let’s start at the top again.”

“There’s Maine, New Hampshire,” Patty said.

“Vermont, New York, Massachusetts,” Chelsea said.

“Utah,” Dana’s soft voice chimed in.

Chelsea threw her head down on the table.

“I’m going to kill you,” Patty said.

“What?” Dana asked. Patty wasn’t sure if the innocence in her voice was true or if she was mocking her.

“Why in God’s name do you think it’s Utah?” Chelsea asked. “There isn’t a single K in the entire word.”

“It’s only four letters long,” Dana said.

Patty glared at her. “The question isn’t ‘What’s the only state with four letters?’ And by the way, Utah isn’t the only state with four letters, there’s also Ohio, so what is your obsession with Utah?”

“H is close to K. So I figured it’s probably a trick question, and the answer is Utah.”

“You think it’s a trick question?” Chelsea asked.

“There are trick questions sometimes.”

“And if this is a trick question, the answer isn’t going to be that there aren’t any states that end in K,” Patty said. “The answer will be Utah, because H is near K in the alphabet.”

“Well, when you say it like that it just sounds stupid.”

“You think?” Patty said.

“Now you’re just being mean,” Dana said.

“Shut up.”

The guys were laughing so hard that they had red faces and tears in their eyes. Patty ignored them. She and Chelsea went through all fifty states, including Utah, at least three times, but neither of them could figure out which one ended in K. It didn’t help that Dana was sitting there muttering “Just say Utah” under her breath as they recited state names.

After about twenty minutes passed, Joey said, “I realize there’s no time limit, but at some point you really need to take a guess.”

Patty refused to include Dana in the decision, but she looked at Chelsea, who shrugged. “I haven’t got a single idea. We’ve been through them all. We’ve been through the territories. I don’t know.”

Dana didn’t say any words, but she hummed four syllables that sounded like, “Just say Utah” in Patty’s head. Patty refused to acknowledge her. “Chels, what do you want to guess?”

“Your game, your call.”

Patty banged her head down on the table so her hair covered her face. She mumbled something unintelligible.

“Sorry, sis, we didn’t catch that,” Joey said.

“Utah!”

The guy hooted and hollered for a full five minutes before they informed the girls the answer was New York.

Patty was livid. Had Dana been quiet, they would have gotten it right. They had mentioned New York at least six times, but never heard it because of her ‘Just Say Utah’ mantra.

The girls never got another chip. The guys beat them within the hour.

Then the girls lured them outside and creamed them in a snowball battle. Patty might have hit Dana with one or two when she wasn’t looking.

Image courtesy of wikicommons, painted by James Montgomery Flagg in 1916-1917 for the Department of Defense , and is in the public domain.

Just Say Utah

Image courtesy of wikicommons, painted by James Montgomery Flagg in 1916-1917 for the
Department of Defense , and is in the public domain.