Serendipity

I love serendipity – the word and the thing itself. It just makes you feel like something is meant to be.

The epilogue to Shattered ends with the launching of the Bluenose in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia on March 26, 1921. For those of you who aren’t familiar with her, the Bluenose was a racing schooner, built to challenge the American fleet out of Gloucester for international bragging rights. Under her captain, Angus Walters, she earned a place in Canada’s history, and on our dime. I thought it fitting that Liam’s life as a shipwright begin with his taking a hand in her building, but when I came to write the epilogue, I realized I needed details. What was the weather like the day the Bluenose was launched? What kind of an occasion was it?

Last week, my husband had to spend a morning in Lunenburg for work. I gladly went along. Lunenburg is a UNESCO world heritage site due to its striking architecture, and a Mecca for a history geek like me.

While DH was working, I walked down to the waterfront and stood at the spot where Bluenose slipped into the water ninety years ago. Then I stopped by the Fisheries Museum. I walked out with the following first hand newspaper account of the launch:

Amid the cheers of the assembled multitude, blessed by a bright clear sunshine and sea upon which there was never a ruffle, Canada’s challenger for the great International Schooner Race, took the water at 10 am this morning. The launching was without a hitch. Nothing untoward marred the splendor of the occasion…

Gaily decorated and carrying her name flag, the Bluenose took to the water as her natural element, to the accompaniment of O Canada, played by the 75th regimental band and the enthusiastic demonstration of the thousands who thronged the waterfront…

So now I know. Just when I needed to. Gotta love serendipity.

Trailer for Shattered

I’m waiting for feedback from a RWAC chapter mate who’s graciously agreed to read Shattered for me. Fingers crossed! In the meantime, I’ve been playing, creating a trailer for the story, with the above result. It’s an interim version, of course, as I don’t have a cover yet.

I’m going to take a little time to consider the book’s future, query a few publishers and look into the self-publishing process. I can’t even guess at a release time yet, as that will depend on the route I choose, but I’m hoping for next spring, earlier if I self-publish. I’ll post updates here, of course.

Meanwhile, I’m enjoying a break and savouring the feeling of finishing another project. I’m pleased with this one and hope that however and whenever it finds its way to you, readers will enjoy it too.

Shattered is Done!

I love this picture of Halifax as it once was. Old photos always give me a feeling of something like homesickness. It really makes me wonder about reincarnation.

Finished major rewrites on Shattered Monday evening. This story is almost ready to go off into the world. Yesterday I tackled the synopsis. Time to take a deep breath and a break.

I see that I’ve written another rather herocentric story. I think that’s ingrained in me, thanks to all the herocentric stories I read growing up. The plot revolves around Liam’s journey toward healing. I found him a little difficult to get to know, but of course, I eventually fell in love with him. He’s earned his flaws. He’s like the ‘Tommy’ in Rudyard Kipling’s poem:

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints

As always, some of my secondary characters have done their best to divert me. I’d like to write the story of Liam’s brother Nolan and his wife Annie (What is it with me and prequels?), and definitely the story of Alice’s brother Carl. Who might be waiting for him? He’d definitely need a strong woman to bring him around. Recipient of a Military Cross, tough as nails, with a frightened little boy hiding deep inside – Carl is definitely hero material.

But for now, after a little vacation, I’m going to switch gears and finish my children’s novel. It’s been on the back burner too long. I’ll leave you with an excerpt of Liam and Alice’s first dance, and Liam’s first encounter with Carl. What a pair of Irish hotties –er, hotheads. Enjoy.

He took Alice’s hand and drew her into his arms. Dancing and the heat had brought the blood to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled like running brook water again. Although she blushed, he sensed no shyness in her body. She fit naturally in his arms, as if she belonged there.

Yeah. She sure isn’t a kid anymore.

Then, like a bolt from the blue an image flashed into Liam’s mind, Alice dancing close, nestled in his arms with her head on his shoulder. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, where did that come from? She’s Georgie’s sister! He loosened his hold on her, but that didn’t dull his awareness of every slender curve, of her light floral perfume. Worse, he saw in her eyes that she’d felt the awareness between them, too.

Before he could make an excuse and abandon her, the band ended the waltz with an extra flourish. The leader bowed to the crowd. “Catch your breath, ladies and gentlemen, while the chair of your Social Committee says a few words. I give you Mrs. Frances Henneberry.”

Everyone returned to their seats, Liam with a sigh of devout thanks. He angled his chair to put Stephen and Alice out of his line of sight. As far as I’m concerned, friend, she’s all yours. Good luck keeping her. Thin, sharp-faced Mrs. Henneberry stepped onto the platform with a self-conscious smile and cleared her throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s wonderful to see you all here, supporting our parish’s efforts to ease the suffering of helpless civilians overseas. There is more than one person here tonight who could tell us first-hand just how severe those sufferings have been and what our sons and brothers have sacrificed in the effort to end them. The least we here at home can do is – ”

“Shut up. That’s the least you can do.”

The words carried clearly from the corner nearest the O’Neills’ table. Every head swiveled. Georgie blushed a deep red. Alice’s face blanched pearl-white. In the shadows just beyond the lighted platform, Carl leaned against the wall, his face flushed with heat and liquor. No one at the table had noticed him come in.

An older, heavier Carl than Liam remembered, with a harder face. The tough kid had grown into a tough man, with an added belligerence. One look at his glazed eyes told Liam Georgie’s brother was a loose cannon.

He and Stephen got up at the same instant and started toward the corner. Stephen got there first and planted himself in front of Carl.

“You’ve said enough. Your sisters are here.”

“I’m not leaving ‘til I make my point.” Carl pushed Stephen back and raised his voice again. “That old windbag hasn’t got anyone at the front. She doesn’t have a clue.”

The scathing words on Liam’s tongue died there. Up close, Carl reminded him too much of men he’d seen in hospital, men who woke in the night screaming as he’d done more than once. Men who spent their days looking at the world through vacant eyes. And Mrs. Henneberry annoyed the hell out of him, too.

“You’re right, Carl. She doesn’t. This isn’t the place for either of us. Come outside and get some fresh air.”

Fists clenched, Carl took a step forward. “Don’t bullshit me, Liam. I’m not going anywhere until I’m good and ready. Who do you think you are, anyway? Your little brother isn’t the only one who’s been killed overseas, you know. Just –”

Liam didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. Rage blotted out his compassion, rage and the memory of Michael-John’s wide, sightless dark eyes. His first punch landed hard in Carl’s belly. The second hit his jaw, knocking him backward and throwing Liam off-balance. They hit the floor, fists flying. The next thing he knew, Nolan was dragging him to his feet while his father and Stephen pinioned Carl. Liam shook his brother off and dove at Carl, only to have his bad leg collapse and land him back on the floor. Nolan helped him up again and got a firm grip on his arms.

“What the hell? Liam, stop it!”

The girls stood nearby now. Georgie’s eyes sparkled with anger, but the strain on Alice’s face did more to clear the haze from Liam’s mind. He stopped struggling with Nolan, took a deep breath and swallowed. The metallic taste of blood in his mouth made his stomach churn.

“The son of a bitch insulted Michael-John.”

Nolan released his hold and took a step toward Carl, putting himself in the man’s face. “If I ever hear of you mentioning my brother’s name again, I’ll finish what Liam started. Dad, Stephen, get him the hell out of here.”

Still winded from Liam’s first blow, blood trickling from his nose, Carl didn’t offer much resistance. Liam figured he’d gotten the worst of the encounter himself, a split lip and what would likely be a magnificent shiner. A couple of older women were on the platform trying to soothe Mrs. Henneberry, who looked on the verge of tears. He should go and say something to her, but at the moment he couldn’t find the words. He shrugged Nolan’s hand from his shoulder.

“I’m getting out of here. Apologize to Georgie for me, would you?” Without waiting for an answer, he walked out.

Music and Musings

Last night, my friend Kathy – the gifted musician who played at my book launch in March – invited me to hear her play in an orchestral concert downtown. The evening was a double treat, as the concert took place in one of Halifax’s beautiful historic churches, Fort Massey United, where I’d never been before.

History geek that I am, whenever I attend an event in an old church, I make a point of arriving early to explore the building and read the memorial plaques on the walls. In particular, since I began Shattered I’ve been seeking out the plaques in memory of soldiers who fell in the Great War.

Every old church in the country has these memorials. Out of a total population of eight million, Canada sent over six hundred thousand young men and women to the Great War and more than one in ten didn’t return, so that’s not surprising, but I got a surprise at Fort Massey. It has three plaques in memory of five brothers who died overseas between 1914 and 1918. Four of the Stairs boys were killed in action over the course of the war, and the fifth, who had earned a Distinguished Service Order, died of influenza less than two weeks after the Armistice was signed. I stood there looking at the names on the tarnished brass and wondered how their parents were able to go on living.

Then I settled into my seat for the concert. As the orchestra sent Mozart’s ‘Magic Flute’ ringing into the rafters, I counted my blessings. I suppose part of the poignancy of old tragedies is that there’s nothing we can do about them but imagine.

Lest we forget.

Summertime and the Living is Easy

Hello, long time no see! Here's a little eye candy treat to begin. This is Colin Hemsworth, my inspiration for Liam Cochrane.

Time to catch up. It has been a while, hasn’t it? Our Nova Scotia non-spring has rained itself away, and now it’s summer.

We spent the Canada Day weekend at the cottage. The weather was fine, the lake was wonderful for swimming and the Terrible Tollers were in heaven, though poor Chance paid the price yesterday. He forgot that he’s not a pup anymore, and keeping up with Echo left him sore and tired, but today he’s his usual self again.

I’m still teaching, as my Grade 10 students have not yet finished their courses due to their late start in the fall. It’s fun having the school more or less to ourselves, doing math over coffee and discussing Canadian history over lunch. I’m not sure what September will bring, but I know I will sorely miss these girls whenever we part company. They make teaching worthwhile. The slower pace is nice, too, as I spent the last half of the winter and spring juggling teaching and evening tutoring. That’s the main reason for my spell of silence here. Something had to give.

I’m plugging away on revisions with Shattered. The second half of the book needed a major overhaul. I hope to have it submission ready by the end of the month. Then, it’s on to the children’s novel. It will make a nice change, I think.

This morning, I re-read the three chapters I have written of Nathan Munroe’s book, likely the last in the Wallace Flats series. I couldn’t help grinning. There’s something about Nathan that always makes me smile, and Colin McShannon does, too, scrappy little Yorkshire terrier that he is. Each of my book people has stolen a corner of my soul. That’s why I write.

My fitness program is progressing as well – 15 pounds down and, ideally, another 15 to go. Slow but steady wins the race. It’s nice to be able to wear some clothes that haven’t fit me for a while.

A good number of my RWAC chaptermates, including Donna Alward, Kelly Boyce and Julia Smith, just returned from Nationals in New York. I won't confess to a tinge of envy – I’ll admit that I’m absolutely green! Check out their blogs for the scoop on the Big Apple.

People of Blogland, I hope you’re having a great summer. What are you up to?

A Piece of Heaven

Unlike last year, when the warm weather arrived in March, spring has taken its time arriving here in Nova Scotia. That said, I think it’s finally here to stay!

To mark Easter and both our birthdays, my DH and I spent this past weekend at our family cottage. It’s on a small, secluded lake with not another building for miles, and to us, it’s our little slice of heaven.

My father, his brother and my cousins built the cottage twenty years ago. Since then, it’s hosted countless good times. The best Christmas turkey I ever ate was cooked in the old wood stove we used to have there. My father has tapped the maples and made syrup there. The road is usually impassable by car in the winter, and the first trip in each year is the real beginning of spring.

This weekend, Dad picked Mayflowers for me as he does every year.
Echo and Chance swam to their hearts’ content and came home two tired, blissful Tollers.


We had a delicious Easter dinner of roast beef with all the trimmings, with cheesecake for a birthday dessert. Delicious!

In January, I decided that my word for this year would be GRATITUDE. Among the things I’m grateful for, a place where I can wake in the night to hear owls calling, swim with loons, hear woodthrushes singing at sunrise, reconnect, rejuvenate and celebrate, is very near the top of the list.

As is my mom’s cheesecake!

A Night At The Theatre: West Side Story

I’ve always had a soft spot for musicals, so, when I got the chance to attend Neptune Theatre’s production of West Side Story last night as part of their Word of Mouth program, I was delighted.

The classic tale of star-crossed lovers, inspired by Romeo and Juliet, takes place against a background of racial prejudice and street violence in Manhattan. The Sharks, a newly formed gang of Puerto Rican immigrants, are battling for turf with the Jets, an established gang of white Americans, many of whom are the children of immigrants themselves. Though the story is told with a lot of street slang that’s dated to our ears, it doesn’t matter. The conflict is timeless.

Tony, the founder of the Jets, now out of the gang, falls in love with Maria, the young sister of Bernardo, commander of the Sharks. Their love sparks a gang war, with tragic consequences. It isn’t difficult to imagine the story playing out on inner-city streets today.

I expected to see a lot of high-octane dancing and passionate acting, and I wasn’t disappointed. Choreographer Jim White has done a masterful job. I was sitting near the front of the hall, and the energy onstage hit me in waves. Chino (Dani Jazzar), second in command of the Sharks, radiated danger. Tomboy Anybodys (Allison MacDougall) made me smile. The Jets’ number “Gee, Officer Krupke” had me laughing out loud. In particular, Stephenos Christou as Maria’s brother Bernardo and Dayna Tietzen as his girlfriend Anita came close to stealing the show. Together they sizzled, and separately, Tietzen’s passion matched Christou’s menacing anger.

Anwyn Musico as Maria brought a lovely mix of innocence and charm to the role. Her strong soprano voice handled the music very well. I felt that she could have showed more angst at times, but she poured plenty into the final scene of the show, where she needed it most. Her Tony, Liam Tobin, impressed me with his handling of the music as well. Though Tobin didn’t give Tony the edge one might expect from a former gang leader, he still shone. I couldn’t help wishing the story could end happily for him and Maria, and isn’t that what a tragic romance should do? As a whole, this show was a real treat.