I have written and published four novels.  Until now, I have never had a book launch, so I decided the time had come.  On October 27, 2018, I hosted a Wine & Cheese Book Launch for my newest fantasy book The Forgotten King here at home.  My favourite comment from many when they received their invitation went something like: "I've never been to a book launch (or literary event) before!"  My response: "Me neither!"  I have had two previous opportunities to attend the launch of a friend (one by the dear Susan Deefholts--who wrote under the pen name Kathryn Anthony before she passed--and one by Carolyn Wilker, whom I at least got to see with her set-up in the Waterloo Chapters a few months back), but both times just didn't work with my schedule.  It only occurred to me much later that I had, in fact, attended a book launch /Q-A event at the Kitchener Chapters in the summer with Kelley Armstrong.  So my response should have gone more along the lines of: "I've never hosted a book launch."
Well, now I have, and I had a wonderful turnout of friends, family, neighbours, and fantastic people all around.  I didn't know quite what to expect, or how to prepare, so I started with invitations through evite and Facebook, a few emails, and word of mouth.  And lots of cheese and wine. 
The overwhelming support from all warmed my heart, especially those I had lost contact with (such as some folks from church), or had only met in the last few months (awesome band people and neighbours).  People wanted to buy my books--all my books--even if they couldn't attend the party, and that (perhaps obviously, though I believe I cannot overstate this) truly makes a writer's day.  It's not about the money, not for me.  It's about the enjoyment I can share, the escapism I can provide through my writing.  Knowing that someone can take time in a world I created in which to relax, to envision people and places that sprang from my mind to blossom in theirs, and that my work might make someone else smile--that's the epitome of this author's goal.  The fellowship of achieving some of this through a party, of sharing time and a love of reading,  of making people happy, is truly a blessing.
​Thank you all who made my first book launch (even if it was for my fourth book) a huge success!  I'm looking forward to many more :)

p.s., any reviews, on any of my books, on any site listing them, even if you didn't like the book, is greatly appreciated :D
​

I haven't posted anything in a while, not because we haven't done anything, but because we've been busy living life.  So, a brief recap of the year thus far ...

In February, Mike & I went to Costa Rica, both the beach (Tamarindo), and the interior.    Mike learned to surf, and we went zip-lining for the first time (they're not big on allowing cameras that high, but rest assured, we had a blast).  Trekked around mountains and volcanoes, through jungle and forest.  Amazing time, truly!  We're hoping to get back soon, maybe November.

The marina where we stored our boat closed in May as the city of Hamilton really wants to re-purpose the land, so we had to get our boat to its new home.  While we had it all painted and ready to go in good order, it took the marina owner quite some time before he managed to get the boat in the water.  The city had deemed his forklift and crane unsafe, leaving many boats high and dry while the city kept issuing eviction notices.  Luckily, our boat got in just before that nonsense, so at least we weren't stuck on land.  We did have to wait to get our motor fixed and running, but at least the boat sat in the water by then.  Anyway, we eventually had everything together, and sailed off to our new marina, about an hour and a half sailing away (only about an extra 15 minutes drive time, but then, that's the nature of sailing).  That comprised our biggest sailing adventure this year, given some nasty summer colds that lasted a couple of weeks, rainy days, and other medical emergencies.

In May, Mike's mom had a bad fall, broke her leg and wrist, and spent the next couple of months in hospital recovering.  That saw many trips to and from Peterborough as Mike (and sometime me) helped his brother and sister look after their parents, and keep his dad sane in the upheaval.  After much debate and searching (soul searching as well as physically looking), the parents have found a temporary home in a lovely retirement home that offers exceptional physiotherapy for mom, and three spectacular meals a day for both (and any visitors), and they moved in almost two months ago.  We'll revisit things in the spring, so that they don't have to worry about trying to drive the back roads that would get them to their house in the middle of winter.

In the midst of that bit of excitement through the summer (coupled with various band concerts, get-togethers, work-issues, the Ride for Refuge fundraiser we participated in at the end of September for SHOW--Supportive Housing of Waterloo--and general living), I finished my latest novel, The Forgotten King.  At about the 3/4 mark, I decided this story could expand into two books, so for the first time, I intentionally created a book intended to have a sequel.  I resolve the main conflict, but I also leave questions and loose ends meant to have a resolution in book two (The Forgotten Magic, hopefully available by the end of 2019).  So far, book two sits at about 25 000 words, so about 1/4 of the way finished.  I started it before publishing The Forgotten King to determine if I could truly stretch the story into two parts.  I don't yet know everything that happens, or how I want it to end (which amuses my chiropractor no end), but I'm pretty sure it's doable.  I hope so, at any rate, as I just published The Forgotten King​ yesterday :D  Hopefully, the copies I ordered will arrive in time for my very first Book Launch, scheduled for Saturday October 27.  Wish me luck!

We arrived at km 104, the start of our trek toward Machu Picchu, at around 7:30 am.  The train stopped to let us and a couple dozen other hikers off at this access to the Inka Trail, and we met our guide Jorge, who had walked in from Aguas Callientes that morning (only about a one and-a-half hour hike) to meet us.  Jorge had a great sense of humour, lots of knowledge to impart, answered pretty much everything we thought to ask, and made sure we didn't get too tired or worn out as we hiked.

​We stopped at a couple of ruins along the way, saw another in the distance, and enjoyed the incredible scenery, as well as a lovely boxed lunch provided by the tour company.  This was pretty much the first day that I had more than soup for all three meals; nothing wrong with the food, it just took that long for my system to adjust to things.  By around 2:30, we made it to the Sun Gate of Machu Picchu and had our first sight of the famous city.

In the weeks leading up to our trip, we kept an eye on the long-range weather forecast.  It showed rain for our entire 10-day trip.  While a couple of days had the occasional spittle the you only noticed as it stopped, the day of our explorations of Machu Picchu called for 100% rain.  And didn't lie.  Jorge had us for 2 hours, whereupon we could reenter the site and stay as long as we wanted.  For the first maybe hour of Jorge's explanations, it remained mostly foggy and overcast (it had rained in the night).  This gave the rather awesome effect of the city seeming to float in the mist as the clouds floated past, lending a certain air of the ethereal to the mystical ruins.

And then the rain started again.  A steady drizzle that turned into a gentle downpour, then into a pretty awesome demonstration of how well the drainage still worked in Machu Picchu.  Those Incas sure knew how to build!  The last of our guided tour happened in a bit of a rush as dozens of sodden tourists quickly made their way to a couple of shelters near the exit.  Jorge finished up his presentation under the thatched roof, then bid us a wonderful day, leaving us to our own devices.

As the train back to Ollantaytambo didn't leave until 6:30 that evening, and it hadn't yet reached 8 am, we decided to wait out the rain for a bit, then just dove back in, seeing as we were already wet.  Somehow, our timing worked out, as the downpour eased back to a steady drizzle, then just overcast skies.  Leaving us a very pleasant day to explore the ruins.

About a 15 minute hike from Machu Picchu, you'll find the Inka Bridge.  We didn't know what to expect, but went to take a look.  You're required to sign in before you can take the trail, then sign out again, presumably so that they know if anyone's fallen off the edge of the cliff on the way to the bridge.  I'm not joking.  It's a narrow trail in places (no more than a couple feet wide) and most of it open to the air.  I loved it.

As we approached the bridge (you can look, but you can't cross), and I saw the huge plank spanning the space, I thought, 'neat, but so what?'  And then I took a closer look and the whole architectural marvel of it just about blew my mind.  The plank is not the interesting part; the sheer volume of stones put in place over 500 years ago, along a vertical cliff face in the middle of nowhere without the use of scaffold or mortar, and still mostly intact--that's just damned impressive.  You do truly have to see it to get the full impact, and pictures don't do it justice, but I've included one here anyway.  Just amazing.

Eventually, we made our way back down to Aguas Callientes (walking rather than getting a bus), had some food, and caught our train.  We knew that we would share the bus back with Cuzco with some other Salkantay trekkers, and had a moment of worry having to listen to a rowdy group on the train (and getting rowdier and more obnoxious with every beer they tossed back) with Salkantay packs (we really wanted to apologise for the most obnoxious, as he loudly claimed Canada as his home).  Luckily, our bus had the other worried train passengers, leaving the party bus to annoy a different driver.  Our group pretty much slept back to Cuzco, much to everyone's relief.

We spent another couple of nights in Cuzco, but really only one day, as the bus didn't arrive until after 10:30 pm, and the flight back to Lima left at 8:30 am.  We checked out a market with everything you could possibly need, from knitwear and souvenirs to fruit and raw chicken, and most things in between.  Then off to Lima.

We met an entrepreneur named Juan that Mike had made a connection with for lunch at a fabulous (and slightly schmoozy) restaurant called La Mer, where we had cebiche (or ceviche, if you want to Americanized spelling), the must-have Peruvian seafood dish.  Mike and Juan talked about UAVs and how Mike and Aeryon might help Juan with various humanitarian efforts he has a hand in.  Juan ordered a wonderful selection of dishes for us (including octopus--delish!) so I don't know what all we had, but every bite was fantastic.  Dipped our toes in the ocean, just to say we did.  Despite the surfers, it was too cold to swim, though the hang gliders had some impressive updrafts.

​We had planned a walking tour of Lima (we stayed in the Miraflores district, and this tour would have taken us into Lima proper), but despite about 8 or 10 of us gathered, no guide showed up, though when Mike called, they said someone would come the next day.  Wouldn't work for us, as this was our final day.  So we set off with 3 others of the group for a bit of a wander to the food market.  After a bit, Mike and I decided to just head back to our Airbnb, taking in some shops and parks along way.

Had some causa for supper--again, a Peruvian dish.  Basically a mashed potato sandwich with whatever filling they have on offer.  I had mine filled with avocado and tuna.  Peru has something like 3000 different kinds of potato, and maybe half that for different kinds of corn.  Whatever variety of potato bracketed my causa, it seemed nice enough.

Our driver arrived around 1:30 am to take us to the airpoirt for our 5 am flight home, saying that night traffic is pretty bad, given all the early flights.  That said, we had smooth sailing (or driving) and made it to the airport with lots of time to spare.  Some turbulence on the flight, but we made it home all safe and sound.

Besides the fantastic scenery, Peru has some great food and wonderful people.  If you've ever thought of going, I highly recommend it!

Mike had some time off work this fall and we knew we wanted to go somewhere, but hadn't settled on a destination yet.  We started to compile a list and research the best time to see various places.  Turns out our target month of November doesn't have a lot going for it in terms of weather for most of our desired locations: many of the islands and tourist hot-spots in Greece shut down in October; much of Europe turns as grey and miserable as home; we did New Zealand last year.  We weren't looking for anything Caribbean this time (and just as well, given the horrible damage of this past hurricane season) and didn't really want to do anything in Asia.  Costa Rica remains on the list (possibly something in late winter to escape our Ontario frigidness), but we finally settled on Peru, despite November heralding the start of their rainy season.

We decided this in October, and that we would travel early to mid-November.  Which gave us less than a month to prepare.  Vaccines, crash course in Spanish (Duolingo says I'm 61% fluent after 3 weeks), researching what to do and where to go and then booking flights, accomodations, and tours--we somehow managed it all while keeping sane and not panicking.

Final itinerary: Fly direct to Lima from Toronto on a 6 pm flight that landed at 2 am.  Hang around the airport until 5:30 am and fly to Cuzco (3400 metres, or 11 150 feet).  Transport to hotel to begin acclimatising to the height, stay for 2 nights.  Tour by bus to Pisac & Ollantaytambo ruins (2800 metres, or 9200 feet), and stay in Ollantaytambo for 2 nights.  Two day trek to Machu Picchu (2400 metres, or 8000 feet) [actually, 1 day trek, night in Aguas Callientes, then 2nd day at Machu Picchu], with train & bus ride back to Cuzco, arriving around 10:30 pm.  Stay in Cuzco for 2 nights, then fly back to Lima for 2 nights, then home on a 5 am flight.

So off we went ...

We arrived in Cuzco somewhat exhausted, though I managed more sleep on the plane than Mike.  Interrupted sleep, what with that 2 am landing and layover, but sleep nonetheless.  You know that feeling when you realise that the snippet of rest actually made you feel worse because of the interruption, and you just wish you'd stayed awake instead?  Yeah ...

Anyway, we got to Cuzco airport around 7 am and ... no transportation waiting for us, despite Mike making arrangements the morning before we left.  No problem; lots of taxis.  Nice driver, pointed out some of the sights, gave some advice, drove without much regard to lanes, turn signals, or how close the next motorist or motorcyclist drove beside us--in other words, exactly like every other driver in Peru.  Somehow it all stays very civil and we saw no accidents (or blood from pedestrians skimming by millimetres from the vehicles).  Arrived at our hotel and left our bags while they finished preparing our room (this is 7:30 in the morning, and folks are very accommodating).  So many flights in Lima and Cuzco arrive or leave at late/early hours that everyone is used to it and make the best out of it.  While we waited, we wandered over to the Plaza de Armas, about a block away.  At this point, I can feel the altitude in the form of a slight headache, and shortness of breath, and that's with the medication suggested for altitude sickness.  Peruvians have coca tea to help combat this, but our taxi driver pointed out that it also boosts energy, so if we wanted to rest, having a drink of coca tea would not get the job done.  At any rate, we had a little sit down in the square, and soon a group of teens approached and wanted to sit with us.  After much fumbling with words and gestures, we figured out they wanted a selfie with us.  Seemed strange, but what the heck.  They got their pictures, thanked us profusely, and went on their way.  As this happened again on our second pass through Cuzco, we figured this is either a bizarre high school fetish (get you picture taken with tourists), or some kind of class project.

I realise that most of my recent blogs have revolved around our adventures sailing.  Well, this one will revolve around my true passion and calling: writing, and more specifically, around the publication of my most recent book.

It takes me awhile to write a full-length novel, mostly because procrastination is so easy.  I'm working on fixing that.  As I worked on In Dreams We Live, I did eventually manage to set a writing routine and stick with it.  Let me clarify that one qualifying word of eventually.  When OPUS II closed for good at the end of February 2017, I got down to some serious writing (well, after a trip to Belize, that is).  So when I returned to the partially finished book (it had somewhere around 65 000 words, compiled over several years) and did some actual, day-to-day writing, I managed to write the final half of the book between mid-March and the end of May.  Final word count rests just north of 130 000, so you can see, if I actually set my mind to it--and the characters and story line cooperate--then it really shouldn't take me 7 years to finish the first draft of a book.  So maybe the next novel (currently sitting at 55 000 words) will arrive before 2020.  One can hope.

At around the 75 000 word mark in early April, I saw a contest for books published before May 19 and thought "Well, there's a goal I might achieve."  Deadlines give you incentive.  I wanted to make sure, however, that this story might actually catch the attention of readers, so I asked some people if they'd be willing to give what I had written so far a read-over, let me know if I should even continue.  Happily, they all agreed I might have something here.  So I kept at it.  Even had one wonderful woman so excited to learn what happened next that I kept sending her sections as I finished--raw and unedited (she was kind enough to ignore all the horrendous spelling mistakes).  I decided by around May 12 that, while I could indeed finish In Dreams by May 19, it would have no editing done, making immediate publication a serious mistake.  So I did not enter the contest, but I did finish my book, and with feedback and comments even as the last word sat blinking happily upon the page.

Then I got down to the editing.  First read-through, just to make sure the sentences made sense, occurred in short order, even though I find it's best to sit back and let things quieten down in the brain before any serious editing reaches the screen.  I plugged everything into CreateSpace (a wonderful self-publishing tool affiliated with amazon), made up a temporary cover so that I had a place holder for later artwork, looked through the digital proof 3 times for format, style, and content, then ordered a proof copy to do a more thorough job of the editing process.  Personally, I love having a physical book in my hands, whether reading it or editing it, though CreateSpace offers both options (physical copy and/or digital proof).  So I sat back and waited for the proof to arrive, expecting a couple of weeks of reprieve before diving back in.  The book arrived within a few days.  I made myself wait a more decent interval before plunging myself back into Angie's world, so that the distance of time would hopefully give me a better perspective.

The basic story didn't change, nor the order of events.  I did tie up some loose ends, fixed any missed typos/grammar/spelling mistakes, altered some sentence structure, etc.  The usual things one might expect in the editing process.  Then I set it aside once more and worked on other stuff.

Near the beginning of August, I took my revised copy and read it through yet again.  Out loud.  Amazing the things you catch when you read it aloud.

I then did some additional research on all things self-published and found two absolutely fantastic resources.  

Draft2Digital provides a platform to reach the ebook markets not affiliated with amazon, so now I have my books available at Kobo, iStore, Barnes & Noble, etc. as well as amazon (Spirit of the Stone, my 2nd book, is exclusive to amazon until November--just the way I had my rights set up), giving me a wider range of potential readership.
And AdobeSpark has a book cover creator which far surpasses what CreateSpace offers in book cover design (still love CreateSpace for the process of paperback creation).  It so impressed me that I redesigned the covers of my first two novels while I was at it.  My cousin made a wonderful painting as per my original concept art idea for In Dreams, but I fell in love with what I created through AdobeSpark and that ended up as my cover art.

With all tools now in hand (paperback, digital, cover art), I submitted my work to the variously chosen venues, clicked "publish," and now have my 3rd fantasy novel available all around the world.  I can't tell you how excited that makes me!

*As of today (Aug. 28), I'm still waiting for the paperback version to appear at amazon.ca.  It should show up soon.  CreateSpace  has it, as does amazon.com, so I'm crossing my fingers that the Canadian store will catch up soon.  You know, being Canadian and all.

We went sailing this past weekend, and we invited some friends to come along for the ride.  

On Saturday, we had the conductor of KMSB join us.  Dave knows his way around water at least as well as he knows his way around music.  He has many canoe trips under his belt, having done most of the backcountry of Algonquin Park among other ventures, and he's assisted on sailboats before, so handling himself aboard Freedom came naturally.  Last week when Mike and I went out, I developed a little mantra to keep myself on an even keel.  There's nothing to fear.  I may have forgotten to use that this week when the wind grabbed us and set us at a lovely angle for sailing.  The expression on my face, Dave tells me, was priceless.  How far over did we heel?  Certainly not as far as my nerves feared, but definitely far enough that the gripping mat beneath my feet shifted and slid, throwing me just that extra bit off balance.  In truth, we heeled at a perfect angle for sailing, but my one-handed death grip on the lifeline while I white-knuckled the wheel and adjusted my stance to feel a little more balanced showed that I needed to remind myself of that little mantra.  There's nothing to fear.  Rule one on the boat: Don't panic.  Rule two: don't fall off.  At least I managed one of them (OK, it wasn't real panic; just overly sensitive startlement; yeah, that's it).

Once I got over my own nerves and just let myself flow with waves and wind, we cut a smooth path toward Burlington Bridge.  And then we entered the channel, and had our first inkling of what we might expect on Lake Ontario.  We hit waves.  Waves enough to kiss near the top of the pier and to smash against the breakwater in foamy delight.  My stomach suggested it might not like this, but we had hopes of things calming down on the other side of the channel past the bridge.  After all, not much wind actually blew, and we wanted to swim near Burlington Beach.  How bad could it get?

Bad enough that raising the jib on the other side did nothing to mitigate the rolling waves, mainly because the wind had pretty much died, leaving behind the waves.  We had water splashing over the bow as it played catch with the boat.  I let the guys know my stomach couldn't handle much of this tossing (luckily verbally, and not physically), so we decided we'd turn around.  Of course, at this point, we had to wait a half hour for the next opening of the bridge.  So I stretched out and lay down (the cushions on our benches are surprisingly comfortable), handing the wheel off to Mike.

We made it back into the Bay and low and behold, no wind.  We'd had wind until the bridge, but it apparently wanted a little rest too.  We put up sails anyway, and Dave had a blast steering us slowly homeward, managing to catch any minute gusts he could find.  Mike cooked up some sausages as we trundled along at 2 knots, and we eventually pulled back to our dock (maybe we had an awkward angle or two as Dave and I and a helpful fellow boater hauled on the dock lines, but we didn't smash into our neighbour boat or the dock, so job well done).  Great sailing, great conversation, great day.

On Sunday, we had Ashley and Matt over.  It was a last minute invitation that luckily they took us up on.  Ashley had the good fortune of receiving some free samples of wine to test for her blog (Caviar Taste on a Bologna Budget), and I happened to mention that her research into this topic would go well on a boat.  And voila, Freedom had company on Sunday.  Now, while we did have some good, if spotty, wind with Dave, with Ashley and Matt, we had gusts up to 9 kph.  Yes, the weather reports said 'gusts'.  The Bay looked like glass with maybe the barest hint of a ripple now and again.  We motored to the bridge.

We had it all wonderfully timed to make the 11:30 bridge raising, and at about 11:15, we saw they already had the bridge up.  What the heck?  Then we saw the freighter barreling toward the canal (it didn't really look like barreling, but those ships are huge and you certainly didn't want to get in its way).  We had a brief scramble as we tried to figure out the proper protocol, then just pulled off to the side to wait, as did most of the other boats who had aimed for the 11:30 slot.  Once the freighter made it through, the bridge closed.  We shrugged and stopped the motor to wait for the next opening.  Which actually happened sooner than we'd thought.  The bridge master just closed it long enough to clear the backlog of vehicular traffic, then raised it again for those of us who had waited for the freighter's passage, so we motored through only about 10 minutes off schedule.  Although schedule implies we actually had a timetable.  We didn't, which is always the best best for sailing.

We pulled up close to Burlington Beach and dropped anchor in a calm Lake Ontario.  Last time we went swimming with Ashley and Matt here, the water felt, in Mike's terms, brisk.  Which basically means bloody chilly (high teens).  Not this time.  According to our water temperature reader, we'd found a pleasant part of the Lake, with a temp of 23 Celsius.  Mike pulled the dinghy alongside Freedom (we'd brought it along for just this purpose) and we used it as a launching point for swimming.  Which worked well for getting into the water, but posed some very amusing difficulties for getting out again.  Much laughter ensued, and we had a fine time swimming, testing out various flotation devices.  [Our ladder at the back of the boat is missing one of the rubber feet that keeps it from rubbing against the hull, so we didn't want to rely on it exclusively--though we did end up using it briefly]

We had some snacks and lunch, then thought we'd sail toward Bronte, pull up to the pier and have a little afternoon drink.  We'd sailed to Bronte before with Ashley and Matt and all liked the little town, so off we set.  Just as the speck of wind that had drifted past abandoned us almost completely.  Our trip planner/chart plotter informed us that at present speed (of about 1.7 knots), we'd reach Bronte in about 5 hours.  After an hour of little progress, we finally concluded that the wind did not, in fact, plan to help us at all, so we turned around and headed back toward the bridge with the intention of going for fish and chips back in Hamilton.

Matt took the wheel and set a course.  And the wind said, "that's better, that's where you meant to go," and gave us a bit of a boost.  In fact, once back past the bridge (a lot of boats chose the 4:30--that is, 16:30--crossing with us, so the channel got a tad crowded, but again, no one hit anything and no one died; and we got to watch a tug boat boot past us going in the opposite direction), the wind pulled us along at closer to 4.5 knots, and on a pretty straight course back to the marina.

Once back at our dock, we did pull out the bottle of wine Ashley had brought for her research, and we all partook of a nice white Ontario wine.  Then went for food.  Great times, great company, great laughs.