As some of you know, Lure was a finalist in the UK Wishing Shelf Awards this year. It’s a wonderful, legitimate contest and one I highly recommend for several reasons. The contest is run by Edward Trayer, a Young Adult/Children’s book author, who created a fair and honest process to help Indies. The entry fee is reasonable (£39) and books are read and judged by reading teams in London and Stockholm. As a Canadian, I’m excited to hear what European readers think of my work. For your entry fee, you receive excellent feedback and an honest Goodreads and Bookbub review based on readers’ comments. Finalists have the option of purchasing a real gold medal. I love to show mine to customers at markets.
I received my feedback this morning. First, I’ll share what the readers said about LURE, and then I’ll add some general commentary for Indie authors that I share with the Wishing Shelf team. I like that the reader is identified by age and gender, and that you also receive the stats. So here we go:
Of those 15 readers:
14 would read another book by this author.
10 thought the cover was good or excellent.
15 felt it was easy to follow.
14 would recommend this book to another reader to try.
Of all the readers — 5 felt the author’s strongest skill was
‘plotting a story’ — 6 felt the author’s strongest skill was
‘developing the characters’ — 4 felt the author’s strongest skill was ‘writing style’ — 15 felt the pacing was good or excellent — 14 thought the author understood the readership and what they
wanted.
Readers’Comments (This part makes my heart thump!)
“Excellent chemistry between the characters, and plenty happening to keep most thriller lovers turning the page. The ‘disturbing discovery’ is when the book took off for me. I plan to hunt out other novels by this author.” Male reader, 37
“A surprisingly fun story considering the subject matter. The author is good at plotting and developing the two central characters, Hawk and Jesse. I loved the twists in the story, and the setting worked perfectly.” Female reader, 38
“Always fun to find an author who’s prepared to offer readers a highly original tale with a highly original setting. I thoroughly enjoyed this drama.” Female reader, 42
“I suspect anybody who enjoys a cleverly plotted mystery and has an interest in Native American culture will find this a compelling story. The author works hard – and is mostly successfully – in delivering suspense, mystery, and even romance.” Female reader, 53To Sum It Up:
‘A skillfully plotted mystery with a cast of fully developed
characters. A FINALIST and highly recommended!’ The Wishing
Shelf Book Awards
I'm thrilled by the feedback but what I really appreciate is the depth of analysis. This isn't about glitz. It's about quality and affect on readers. So, thank you Edward Trayer (Billy Bob Buttons) for a well-conceived and managed contest.
Tips from The Wishing Shelf Filtered Through the Lens of My Experience: Included was some general feedback Edward and his teams have amassed over the years. Indie authors, especially when starting out, tend to make mistakes. As a book reviewer and voracious reader, I often see the issues I'm paraphrasing here.
Blurb: A book blurb is not a summary; it's a sales pitch. Make it short and enticing. Who are the main characters: protagonist and antagonist. What are the stakes? Include a cool tagline. For example: A SEXY HITCHCOCKIAN THRILLER THAT DEMYSTIFIES VAMPIRE AND ILLUSTRATES THE POWER OF LOVE (To Render a Raven.) I also add author endorsements.
Formatting: Though it's tempting to reduce printing costs by using small fonts and slim margins, don't make your text illegible or crowded along the inside crease. Use clear, crisp, readable fonts. Don't be seduced by weird, cool, or pretty.
Pacing: Don't rush the climax and the ending. As Edward says it should be "BIG AND EXCITING" not two pages and THE END.
Editing: Nothing turns a reader off like typos. Hire a professional editor to scour your text for spelling and grammar problems. The author's eyes tend to glance over the text.
Beginnings: Start "in medias res" or in the middle of the action. Nothing kills the excitement of a story like pages of setting, backstory, and description. Yes, we need to know place and time, but try to show it by having your character engaged in some exciting activity that will grab the reader.
Word Length: Character development takes time. Don't rush it and publish a novella that should be a full-length novel. Most novels are between 70,000 - 90,000 words, but check the expectations for your genre.
Point-of-View: Omniscient is out and Limited Omniscient or First Person is in. This means, the viewpoint character only knows certain things, and not what's happening in the heads of other characters. They can assume, wonder, or interpret via the actions of others but "head-hopping" is a cardinal sin. When you're tempted to describe another character's reactions or thoughts in detail, it's time to switch scenes.
I hope you find this helpful. I don't often let my captive English teacher out, but sometimes I just gotta say … Do it right. And, thank you to Edward and the Wishing Shelf team for all your hard work.
I am a Spring. I was also born in the spring. Perhaps that’s why I awaken at this time of year when birds call to their mates, creeks overflow their banks, and buds burst from branches.
Years ago, when Carole Jackson first published Colour Me Beautiful, I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I’m surprised to find this book is still in print and available. I had the colour chart taped up in my closet for years. Have you ever had your colours done? I think it actually works.
Colour theory is based, not on colours you like, but on skin tones. I’m going to use my sister as an example. She is a Summer because she has more of a blueish skin tone. This means she can wear pastels. While I, with my yellowish skin tone, wash out in pastels. As a spring, I need warm, vibrant colours: orangy reds rather than blue-reds; coral, clear violet, turquoise, royal blue. I shouldn’t wear black; though if you know me at all, you know it’s my go-to. What colour palette works best for you?
It’s unfortunate that stores usually only offer seasonal colours. For example, in fall and winter, it’s all russets, dark greens, and wine tones, all of which don’t work for me. Thrift stores are the exception because there you can always find a rainbow.
As a child, I cocooned all winter in Ontario. As soon as spring came, I was out in the bush in my rubber boots, wading through creeks and searching for sprouts. Yellow dogtooth violets. Purple violets. The first trilliums. I still love to wade in ditches and creeks. Here in B.C. skunk cabbage is our first woodsy shoot and I saw some last week.
I’m desperate for spring as the last month, I’ve been sick more than I’ve been well. I lost a month of time and energy. I caught one cold from my grandson and we’d just barely recovered when he gave me a second virus from hell that’s hung on. After three solid weeks, I’m still coughing. Skaha and I went for our normal hour walk in the woods last week, and I needed a rest after. The last two nights I’ve been able to sleep all night without Buckley’s! Yay! How did you fare this flu season?
Bring on the sun. I want to dig in the dirt, rake leaves, play in the stream, walk the beaches, and plant.
If you’re curious about Spring Equinox (March 20th) We’Moon offers this beautiful page of facts and suggestions. Saturday, in the bright sunshine, I cleared the leaves from my garlic. Then put up my mini greenhouse and planted seeds. It feels so good to dig in the dirt.
Meet Barry Bear!
Skaha has a new housemate. Barry arrived on March 9th by plane from a shelter in Regina. He’s about six months old, a sweet gentle giant, wearing a full Canadian winter coat. We think it’s part Great Pyrenees. Right now, he’s about the same size as Skaha (around 60 pounds) but time will tell. The two of them are having a great old time together!
1) Many contests are bogus. They pocket entry fees and no one reads the entries. They randomly choose a winner. If you’re looking for vetted contests, Alliance of Independent Authors (ALLi) posts a lists of reputable awards.
2) Many awards are not open to Indies, or are open but traditional publishers with big bucks throw money at the books they choose to win.
3) Some contests have a zillion categories so you basically make up some random award and win it.
4) Some Indie award contests and some book reviewers, both whom I will not name, look down on genre-writers and only cater to what they call “literary” works, as if authors who write in a genre like mystery or romance or fantasy can’t also be literary.
5) At Wishing Shelf, two teams of real readers (one in London and one in Stockholm) actually read the books and make the decisions. There is one category for Adult Fiction so it’s competitive. For your entry fee, they do significant marketing for you, and they support Blind Children UK.
*This is the audio book cover for LURE. All of my books are now available on Google Play and on Kobo in audio. WhooHoo! I had a ball listening to my old British man read my stories as I corrected his pronunciation.
News and Musings
To Dance with Destiny. I wrote the first draft of Hollystone Book 5 faster than I’ve ever written a book before. I started in November and finished around mid-February. I left it for a full month (mostly because I was so darn sick) and just finished the first series of revisions. It’s always a blast to read your book again for the first time all the way through. Did I write that?
Yasaman has the paragraph about the tattoo and is starting her magic tattoo cover! Yes, someone will be getting a new tattoo in this book!
Ghostlight. I just spoke with the editor of Ghostlight and will be starting revisions soon. A couple of the teens I sent it to for a beta read said it needed a better title. Scary. Funny. Weird. Unique. Attention grabbing.
There’s a lighthouse, a family mystery, and a young woman who can’t tell the difference between ghosts and real people. Any ideas?
Craft Market. The first public market of 2023 is coming up on Saturday April 2nd at Union Bay Community Club. If you live mid-Island, do come by the say hello.
Creating this book list was much harder than it looks. First, I had to choose books that had a similar bent to my own book, To Charm a Killer. Then I had to craft a short review to introduce each story in the light of the overarching theme. It had been so long since I’d read Interview with the Vampire, I bought the paperback and reread it. I was surprised at the depth of character, the broodiness of Louie, and the madness of Lestat.
One of my favorite reviewers writes this of To Render a Raven:
“I think the true draw of this novel for me, and this is probably true of the whole series, now that I think about it, is the intricate psychology of the characters, who are complex, nuanced, sympathetic, and occasionally, deeply irritating— a sign of just how invested I’ve become, and how well drawn their inner lives, as well as outer adventures, really are. Highly recommended read.”
To Charm a Killer started it all. As I complete the draft of Book 5, my mind drifts back to everything that’s come before, Estrada’s complex psychological journey, his desires, his loves and losses, and how he’s changed over two years of his fictional life—something that’s impacted several years of my life and continues to inspire me.
Finally, I recommend Shepherd.com as it’s a very cool, professionally vetted site. You can search for comp lists on all kinds of topics. For example, if you’re looking for adult fiction featuring witches, try this. If you’re an author, contact them to find out how to create your own list.
I’m excited to introduce you to my friend and fellow mystery/crime writer, Debra Purdy Kong and her latest crime fiction. If I remember correctly, the “gold satin” has something to do with a thong. My my!
I met Debra a few years ago at a Crime Writers of Canada event and we went on to share the stage at readings and events. Debra’s a seasoned author who knows how to paint a scene and entice her audience into reading more. See the first scene teaser below.
Debra’s volunteer experiences, criminology diploma, and various jobs inspired her to write mysteries set in BC’s Lower Mainland. Her employment as a campus security patrol and communications officer provided the background for her Casey Holland transit security novels.
Debra has published short stories in a variety of genres as well as personal essays, and articles for publications such as Chicken Soup for the Bride’s Soul, B.C. Parent Magazine, and The Vancouver Sun. She is a facilitator for the Creative Writing Program through Port Moody Recreation and a long-time member of Crime Writers of Canada. She lives in British Columbia, Canada.
The Blurb:
Transit cop Casey Holland has never met a bus passenger like the charming artist and exotic dancer, Eduardo. The bus driver Lily has certainly befriended him. But when Eduardo’s charged with murder, Lily’s caught in the middle of his legal trouble. Afraid of losing her job and custody of her son, she begs Casey for help in proving Eduardo’s innocence.
Casey’s search for answers takes her and her best friend Kendal to a troupe of strippers known as Man Cave. While the men are busy peeling off their clothes, Casey’s peeling back layers of secrets and betrayal. Nuttier than her usual adventures, the risk is just as deadly in this seventh installment of the Casey Holland transit mysteries.
When I read the blurb for Debra’s latest Casey Holland novella, I was intrigued by the character Eduardo and the male strippers known as The Man Cave. I really think Eduardo needs to meet up with my protagonist, Estrada, and spend some time at Club Pegasus. Estrada would be happy to introduce Eduardo to beautiful women so he could leave his bus-hopping days behind. Anyway, I asked Debra to tell me about Eduardo.
Where did Eduardo come from and what was the inspiration for this book?
I wanted to create a character who’s relatively uncomplicated and positive, yet still interesting. Eduardo’s a composite of people I met while working as a campus security guard several years ago, although none of them were aspiring artists or part-time strippers, like Eduardo. Some were new immigrants who struggled with English. They were engineers, doctors, and dentists in their birth countries and doing whatever they could to pay the bills until they acquired Canadian accreditation. They were the sweetest, most respectful guys to work with. There were also a few coworkers who possessed a great deal of swagger and over-confidence in their abilities.
Those experiences reinforced a truth I’ve known for some time. There’s always much more to people than meets the eye, and not everyone’s motives are negative. Eduardo is flawed, but he’s also a happy, easygoing guy. He’s an artist, a professional escort, and a stripper. He loves his family and wouldn’t wish harm on anyone, which is why his arrest for murder baffles him.
I chose those jobs for Eduardo because it suits his character. It also creates a quirky, somewhat awkward situation for Casey and her husband Lou. In the previous books, Casey’s work as a security officer for a bus company has either evolved into or merged with serious and dangerous situations. I wanted to give her a bit of a break from that level of intensity while still investigating a crime. To be honest, I haven’t been to a real-life Chippendales-type show. A member of my writers’ group has, though, and she shared some great insights about female audiences. In my early twenties, my boyfriend at the time took me to see female strippers. As I recall, the male audience was exceptionally well-behaved compared with the women in my story. But as characters discover in A Gold Satin Murder (a novella), actions, in and out of the shows, have consequences
Are you intrigued? Do you want more?
Here are the buy and connect links. But scroll down for a little September gift from Debra and read the first scene!
After a decade of security work for Mainland Public Transport, Casey Holland had learned that troublesome passengers were usually rude, loud, and poorly dressed. But the gorgeous, broad-shouldered man in the charcoal suit, white shirt, and bright red tie strutting down the aisle was a new, intriguing challenge.
The moment the man spotted Casey, he gave her a broad, toothy smile. Cool. Her silky, low-cut tank top and dangling crystal earrings were doing their job. Undercover assignments rarely involved dressing up, but passenger complaints about a hot guy who’d been badgering women to model for his paintings required a different fashion choice. Besides, the bus was way too warm this late-July evening. The less she had to wear the better.
Casey winked at the man, then tilted her head toward the empty seat next to her. He slowed his pace and nodded to the gaping middle-aged woman he passed by. Judging from a quick survey, the man had caught the attention of most passengers. The men didn’t look as impressed as the women, though.
“Hola, señorita.” Gold-flecked brown eyes glanced at her hands as he sat down. “I am Eduardo from Ecuador.”
“Casey. From Vancouver,” she replied. “How are ya?” To reveal she was a señora who’d been happily married for just over a year might put him off, so the wedding rings stayed home.
“Excelente.” He beamed. “I am here only three months, but I am in love with Vancouver. It has many interesting people.”
“That it does.” His cedarwood and vanilla cologne sent a jolt of nostalgia through Casey. When Dad was alive, she occasionally gave him a bottle of something similarly scented for Father’s Day. She sat up straighter and zeroed in on Eduardo. Not the time for reflection.
“I apologize if my English is not so good,” Eduardo said.
“It sounds fine to me.” She smiled. “Do you live in this part of the city?”
“Si. Only one block away. I love to walk and ride the buses and talk to people.”
He’d have many opportunities to do exactly that in Vancouver’s densely populated West End. Thanks to nearby Stanley Park, the popular English Bay beach, and many eateries, the area attracted tons of tourists as well as visitors from other areas of the Lower Mainland.
“Your eyes!” Eduardo slapped his hand over his heart. “La violeta. Extraordinario! I have not seen such a shade before. I am professional artista. May I paint you? It would be great honor! You are so be-eau-tiful.”
“Thank you.” Great honor and beautiful were the exact words two of the complainants had used in their written statements. “So, how many women have you approached about painting their portraits, especially while riding this bus?”
“Qué?” Eduardo’s smile faded. “Why do you ask me this?”
“I’m with Mainland Public Transport security.” She showed him her ID card. “We’ve had harassment complaints about you. One woman threatened to involve the police if it happened again.”
His eyes widened. “This cannot be.”
“The complaints said you wouldn’t take no for an answer until they either changed seats or left the bus.”
Eduardo sat back in his seat. “I am stupefied!”
Casey didn’t buy the naïve act. “Harassment of any type on MPT buses is against company policy.”
He fidgeted, not quite meeting her gaze. “I am just a single man who loves ladies and to create art.”
Eduardo produced a business card depicting an elegantly designed maple tree with crimson and tangerine leaves. But anyone could create a card and pass himself off as an artist.
“Is difficult to find models in new city. Art schools are filled up.” He frowned. “And many ladies choose to sit next to me and ask what I do to earn money.”
She believed him. Given the lusty stares a couple of women were tossing his way, Eduardo had probably found more than a few willing models and dates.
“Is it wrong to talk about art, or to ask a be-eau-tiful lady on a date? I might break bus rules, but I am not breaking real laws, no?”
Casey sighed. “Are you and I going to have a problem?”
He raised his hands, palms facing her. “I do not want trouble, but I must pursue my art.”
“Eduardo, the rules are there for a reason. They also give me the authority to kick you off any MPT bus if you’re breaking them.” Casey paused. “If you’re going to discuss portrait painting, then be clear about what you want. If you’re turned down, then I strongly advise you to leave the passenger alone. I assume you expect to be paid for your portraits?”
Eduardo nodded. “I do this not only for money but to find true soulmate.” He lowered his head. “I am not so lucky in love. Is heartbreaking road filled with big potholes.”
“Uh-huh.” She studied him. “Do you think you’ll find love on a bus?”
“I search everywhere.”’
Eduardo’s expression and demeanor seemed sincere, but she had her doubts about this guy.
“You must have tried dating apps,” she said.
“Si.” He grimaced. “They were not good. Is better to meet ladies in person.” He gave her a whimsical look. “Everywhere.”
Meaning he intended to keep chatting up women on MPT buses. Eduardo might be better looking and more polite than other rule breakers, but his resistant attitude was all too familiar. She’d be seeing him again, no doubt, and their second encounter wouldn’t be as cordial.
“Just be careful about what you say,” she cautioned. “Misunderstandings happen easily.”
The corners of Eduardo’s full, sensuous mouth turned down. “What shall I talk about? The boring weather? Is what others do.”
“Eduardo, buddy, unless someone speaks to you first, it might be best if you didn’t talk at all.”
Twenty-five years ago today, on July 10, 1997, we left our home in Ontario for a new life in British Columbia.
At the time, I was working as a domestic abuse counsellor in a transition house in Oshawa, Ontario. Bethesda House is still there, helping women and children find their way through a tumultuous time. I’d graduated with my B.A. in Indigenous Studies in 1995, worked as a sexual assault counsellor at a Rape Crisis Centre, and then been hired at Bethesda House. But I was done with Ontario. The hot summers. The snowy winters. Freezing pipes and terrifying drives through icy roads. Bad weather and worse boyfriends. When I stopped feeling my fingers in winter, I knew I had to go.
I had no job and no idea where we’d live in British Columbia, but I had one friend on the Sunshine Coast and another in the Kootenays. I’d been accepted at UBC, and thought maybe I’d become a teacher.
My daughter had graduated from grade 8 that year and was starting high school. What better time to begin an adventure?
Tara & Carmen. still friends today
Fortunately, I jotted down a few notes in a journal as we drove West, like so many have done before us, and continue to do today. My daughter was fourteen, and we had Riley with us, our six-month-old border collie. Our friend, Dave, helped us pack the U-Haul trailer. I’ll never forget those puffins on the side! Dave helped us hitch it to my old white Cavalier station wagon. We looked something like this.
Everything we owned we packed in that trailer, but left our camping gear in the back of the wagon. I’d found a campground close to Vancouver—Anmore Campground near Buntzen Lake. That X on the map was our destination.
packing up our possessions
I’d never hauled a trailer and had no idea how to back it up, so we drove the whole way going forward. Except for this one time when I drove to the top of a hill and then realized I was on a dead end road. Somehow, I turned us around jack-knifing, cursing, and praying all the while. The following is taken from my 1997 journal.
Thursday July 10. We drove off at 6am and landed at the Queensway Motel in Espanola (between Sudbury and Sault Ste. Marie) at 3:30pm — $40/night. 486 km and $16.00 for gas.
Friday July 11. We left Espanola at 6am and crossed the border into Michigan at 9:30 am. By 8pm, we’d arrived in Wakefield. 13 hours. 733 km and $16.00 for gas. I wrote: “The country along the South Superior shore is beautiful. We swam in Superior between Munising and Marquette. Gorgeous sandy beaches, but the water is freezing!”
Saturday July 12. We left Wakefield, Michigan at 6am and drove through two whole states: Wisconsin and Minnesota. I loved the land, the national parks, and later set a novel right there in central Minnesota near the Leech Lake Reservation—LURE. We arrived in Grand Forks, North Dakota around 4pm. 10 hours. 635 km and $23.50 for gas. I wrote: “Yikes. Prairie rain. We drove through two hours of hard rain storms but tonight is very hot and humid. More thunderstorms expected.”
Sunday July 13. We left Grand Forks at 6:30am and drove to Williston, North Dakota (which is almost Montana). We arrived at the Select Inn at 3pm. 8.25 hours. 546 km and $20.50 for gas. I wrote: “Ran rainclouds and learned to read a prairie sky. Yeah! They have a pool! We ate supper at a cool place called Trappers Kettle.” Aha. It’s still there and still cool.
Monday July 14. We left Williston at 6:15am, changed time zones again, and arrived in Laurel (just past Billings) Montana at 3:30pm. It was sunny & 90 degrees F. We were just too frazzled to go on. 615 km and $19.50 for gas. We stayed at the Welcome Travelers Motel. I wrote: “Miles and miles of rangeland dotted with cows and horses. We passed deer and pheasants on the road.”
Roadside Break in Montana
Tuesday July 15. At 6am, we left Laurel Montana. We drove through the Rocky Mountains all through Montana and Idaho. Yellowstone Country! We almost didn’t make it to the top of Lookout Pass in Montana, and the Fourth of July Pass in Idaho was terrifying—driving in 3rd gear, 20mph to the top. We landed in Sprague, Washington at 7pm as we stopped to shop in Butte, Montana. 14 hours. 913 km. I think I was too freaked out to check the gas! I remember that Sprague was a one-silo town and I had the creeps. We stayed at the Purple Sage Motel (now closed) and I hid my purse in the bed with me that night. This Capital I Introvert was starting to lose her mind.
Wednesday July 16. A HORRIBLE HORRIBLE DAY. We left Sprague and drove through the Cascade Mountains. As we drove up the pass, my temperature gauge glowed red and as we hurtled down the other side it slipped back into the green. It was blistering hot but I kept my foot on the gas.
We drove through Seattle at noon and arrived at Canada Customs at 2pm. As we were sitting in the lineup at the Peace Arch, I smelled something burning. “I hope that’s not us,” I said to Tara. Then we saw smoke wafting out the hood of the wagon. I’d toasted the thermostat and the fan. The motor ran out of coolant and the car overheated. The border guard took one look at us and waved us on. “Just go,” he said. “Just keep going.” We drove through White Rock spewing coolant. Some nice guys helped us out at Crescent Service Station where we got a new thermostat installed. Still, we overheated all the way through New Westminster. I hated driving through New West, and I still do to this day! We finally arrived at the Sleepy Lodge Motel in Coquitlam at 8pm. Riley ate some rotten bone out back and had diarrhea all over the disgusting gold shag rug! I wrote: “Oh yeah. I got my period too.”
Thursday July 17. We unpacked the trailer at the U-Haul Storage in Port Moody and got the fan fixed at Canadian Tire. From Sprague Washington to Port Moody 695 km.
And then we got a fantastic camping spot in the overflow area at Anmore Campground near Buntzen Lake. We pitched the tent and crawled into our sleepings bags for the very first time. $22/night. We’d finally made it to that little X on the map.
Caesarea, Ontario to Buntzen Lake, BC 4,258 KM in 7 DAYS
Ironically, I ended up living and teaching in Port Moody for most of the next twenty-five years, though I never went to UBC. On Saturday July 19, we drove down Hastings Street and right through downtown Vancouver. I wrote: “Scary. Chaotic. Too many people. Too little space. No UBC.” At the time, I knew nothing about the Downtown Eastside, and the people we saw there in the streets that Saturday morning. On the way back to Port Moody, we decided to try and find a beach. I mean, we were finally at the West Coast and hadn’t found the ocean yet! I looked at the map and chose Wreck Beach which, unbeknownst to us at the time, is the most famous nude beach in Vancouver. Right about then, we realized we rural Ontario girls were just not ready for Vancouver life.
I was destroyed! I thought I’d made a huge mistake and was considering going back to Ontario. I called my friend, Jackie, who lives in Kaslo (the Kootenay Mountains) and asked if we could stay at her place for a few days while I figured out what to do. It didn’t look far on the map (just over an inch) but 13 hours later, I was driving through the Rockies, covering my view of the drop-off cliffs, and crying, “I can’t do this!” I told Jackie I’d never drive to her place again along the Crow’s Nest highway, and I never have. I love you Jackie, but mountains to flatlanders are like traversing another planet. Jackie calmed me down, and while we were visiting, we found our first basement suite in Burnaby at Canada Way and 10th Avenue. I discovered SFU on Burnaby Mountain, and so our new lives began.
We had great times at Anmore Campground and, years later, I set my Hollystone Mystery series at Buntzen Lake. We camped for about three weeks and, after that, my daughter refused to camp with me ever again! Though I think I still have that old blue cooler.
In all, we travelled 4,258 km in 7 days—me, my 14-year-old daughter, and our 6-month-old border collie puppy.
No regrets. If we’d stayed in Ontario our lives would be someone else’s lives. We wouldn’t be the people we are today. We wouldn’t know the people we know today. And oh, the experiences we would have missed.
This is a wonderful article for any writer, and especially an author of historical fiction. Sharpen your quills. You’ll be inspired. I promise. Thanks to Deborah L. Williams for her expertise.
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