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Writing

A Writer’s Dedication: Commitment and gratitude

Dedication. As an author I deal with two. First, there is the commitment I make to transform an idea that popped inside my head into a book. This is a process that typically takes months of sitting at my computer, letting the words come together, typically 500 a day. Then there is the self-editing that often comes midway and certainly a few times after I reach the end. You could also factor in the business end of writing, that is, getting the word out about my books.

As part of that process, there is another form — choosing who I will honor with an official dedication. What person or persons have made an impact in my life, especially my writing, in some way? It’s my official and public form of thank you.

At this point I have sixteen books published, including the most recent The Swanson Shuffle. The next, Finding the Source, the next Isabel Long Mystery, set in the fictional hilltowns of Western Massachusetts, will be released June 4.

Several books have been dedicated to family, including my husband Hank, our six children, and two grandchildren. My late mother, Algerina Medeiros, is on that list since she was a big reader and it turns out, the inspiration for Isabel Long’s mother.

Then there are friends who deserve mention. 

Teresa Dovalpage inspired me to write mysteries after I read hers — A Havana Mystery Series among others. We met in Taos, New Mexico, and I fondly remember talking and drinking Cuban coffee at her home. Teresa has encouraged me as I negotiate the publishing world.

I met Frederick Fullerton in college, and our friendship has continued these oh-so-many years with nearly daily emails, often about writing and the books we’ve read. He published two books this year, a novel, The Writer of Unwritten Books, and a collection of short stories, The Prisoner & Other Stories.

Karen Westergaard and Victor Morrill are hilltown friends who deserved to have a hilltown book dedicated to them, Northern Comfort. I have so enjoyed our conversations in their welcoming home and gardens.

John McCann and Helen James are two medical professionals who have given me wonderful healthcare. Talk about dedication.

Steve and Diane Magargal are the former owners of Liston’s Bar in Worthington, where we used to live. Nearly every Friday night, Hank and I went there for music, dancing, and comradery — a fun night out. Liston’s is the inspiration for the Rooster Bar in my Isabel Long Mystery Series, but the characters are all made up. Honest. By the way, after Steve and Diane sold the bar, it was bought by a group of locals, who tore it down and had it rebuilt. 

The Swanson Shuffle is dedicated to two teachers from my childhood — Irma Darwin and Donald Graves. 

Irma was my fourth-grade teacher who was the first to encourage me to write on my own, making up short stories and one-act plays. I assigned parts to my classmates, and we practiced at recess. Later, we performed in front of the class. I don’t remember what I wrote, but I do the feeling of using words to tell a story.

I met Donald in fifth grade when I was among the students selected from our town’s elementary schools to attend an enrichment program in science and creative writing held Wednesdays. I bet you can guess which class I preferred. Donald’s approach to creative writing was a deeper way for me to express myself. Frankly, I had to wait until I was in college to get anything similar.

So who earned a dedication for Finding the Source? It’s my secret until June 4.

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The Swanson Shuffle

Author Review: The Swanson Shuffle

Note: I was delighted when Helen Matthews, a psychological suspense author from the UK, offered this full review of The Swanson Shuffle, which was released April 30. Due to our association with two publishers, I had asked for a blurb and she gave this as well. Please check out Helen’s books, Girl Out of Sight, The Sisters, The Girl in the Van, and Lies Behind the Ruin. I have so enjoyed reading them all.

In recent years my reading diet has been skewed towards dark and twisty page-turners but I’ve always been a fan of literary fiction. The Swanson Shuffle was a pleasure to read as I rediscovered the delights of beautifully-written prose and a slower but satisfying character-driven narrative with emotional depth.

The story is set in the 1970s and has an unusual and fascinating setting. Dilapidated Swanson House, a former mansion that now operates as a halfway house for psychiatric patients released from a nearby mental hospital, Alden, but not yet well enough to live independently. The central character, Bia, graduated from college two years earlier and has left an unsatisfying job and an even more unsatisfying relationship, to take on a role at Swanson House. She believes she can make a difference to the lives of the residents.

Along with three other staff members, none of whom are medically qualified or experienced in mental health social work, Bia gets to know the residents and shares her observations with the reader. Those most vivid in my mind are Lane, who finds it hard to express himself so writes everything down as stories; Jerry, who seems superficially well-balanced but has some dark incidents in his past, and outrageous Angie, who can’t hold down a job and seems compelled to throw herself at every man around.

Swanson House rules are that residents must hold down a job and pay their rent in order to stay in the house. As the back stories of this intriguing mix of damaged people gradually unfold, we see how they cope, or not, with their daily routines. Working, eating, smoking, doing the grocery shop, playing volleyball and dozing off are the norm. A cinema trip or a visit to explore a staff ember’s new apartment downtown count as highlights. Some succeed, others aren’t ready for this step towards freedom and fail. Insights into the residents’ traumas are depicted with great sensitivity.

In this intense and challenging workplace, I questioned whether certain staff might be more unstable than the residents. Sometimes boundaries become very blurred.

I loved the references to contemporary music and events unfolding in the outside world – the Watergate scandal, Nixon’s resignation, Patty Hearst. The films the residents went on a group trip to see included The Exorcist though not One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (perhaps this was released later).

The Swanson Shuffle has authentic characters and the story is told with insight and clearly based on personal experience and research. Bia is an impressive character who develops and grows in her time at the halfway house. While the main action of the novel is compressed into around a year, there is a satisfying ending set some years into the future. We discover what she’s learned and how her time at Swanson has shaped her future. A book full of compassion and hope — a highly recommended read.

Here’s the link to The Swanson Shuffle.

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The Swanson Shuffle

Reading The Swanson Shuffle at Open Mic

Most Thursdays are open mic nights at my son’s brewery, Floodwater Brewing in Shelburne Falls. I go to listen to the talented musicians who perform there. Sometimes I read, which I did last night, in honor of the release the day before of my new book, The Swanson Shuffle.

Besides serving great beer brewed on the premises, Zack has provided a community space and a place for the area’s musical talent. Open mic is an anything-goes-night, with musicians playing singly or in a group for three songs. A few recite poetry they’ve written, one remarkably from memory. Recently, I read from my latest book for middle grade readers, The Twin Jinn and the Alchemy Machine — advising listeners “to channel their 11-year-old selves.”

Last night’s list was long, so it was a two-song night. I sat at the bar, drinking The Last Waltz Vienna Lager while waiting my turn, which was near the bottom of the list. Before I walked from home, I got a call to bring more copies of The Swanson Shuffle. Floodwater is the only place to buy my books other than on Amazon. I give readers a Floodwater discount. Last night, I sold six books, including from my mystery series.

Finally, it was my turn. Yes, that’s me above at Floodwater. I specifically chose a chapter that would give listeners an idea of what this book’s about — a young woman’s experience as a live-in staff member at a psychiatric halfway house in 1974. I had already read the chapter aloud at home, so I knew it would take five minutes, a reasonable amount of time. The challenge here would be the lighting, designed for musicians and not readers, but I made it work.

I started with a little humor, noting Zack thoughtfully named a beer for me, an IPA, called Cyborg Joan — naturally, there is a story that goes with that. I do get a kick out of it when I hear someone say, “give me a Joan.”

Anyway, here is the chapter I read last night called “Dented Cans.” Bia is with Debbie, the disgruntled woman who she will replace at Swanson House.

I follow Debbie to her room, which is at the head of the stairs on the second floor. She explains the large rooms on this floor were broken up when this mansion got turned into an inn after the rich folks lost their money during the Great Depression. A few are large enough to be doubles. More are on the third floor, where the servants used to sleep, but Swanson House stopped letting residents use the rooms there after a recent problem. I’m sleeping in Debbie’s room tonight, and if I get this job, it will be mine. Debbie is off this weekend. So is Paul, the other single staff member, but Ben and Nina are staying.

“The sheets are clean,” Debbie says.

I drop my bag on the bed. Not much else is here, a dresser, an upholstered chair, and a door that likely leads to a closet. The windows don’t have curtains. Paper, an old-style print with stripes and roses, peels from the walls.

“You’ve already packed?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m outta here in another week. I’m not sure what I’m gonna do next. I’ll be crashing with my folks for now.” She gives me a squinty stare. “Can I give you some advice?” she asks but from her tone of voice I can tell she’s not seeking my permission.

“Sure.”

She shuts the door, then points toward the chair. I sit down. She stays standing.

“You’ll probably get the job. You’re the best one to apply, and I bet you’ll take it if they offer.” She raises a hand before I reply. “If that all happens, my advice is not to get too close to the residents.”

“Too close.”

“You’ll burn out fast if you do. Believe me. It’s okay to care. Just don’t care so much like I did.” Her voice trails off. “You come here thinking they’re the same as us, but they aren’t. They’re dented cans.” She sees me wince. “You know those cans in the supermarket they put on sale ’cause somebody dropped them, and now they have a big dent? The insides are supposed to be good, but no matter what anybody does, that dent’s never coming out. You understand what I’m saying?”

“Maybe.”

“You met Jerry. He seems normal enough. Ask him about his lousy childhood. No one should have to grow up like he did. I sure didn’t. I bet you didn’t either. He dropped out of high school and worked a lot of shitty jobs. Miracle he didn’t get drafted and end up in Vietnam. I guess he moved around too much for anyone to find him. Last job he worked was running rides in a traveling carnival. He got into drugs, and all the old stuff started coming up. He began hearing what people were thinking, and you know nothing good’s gonna come from that. Jerry was yelling at people, and one time he wouldn’t stop the Ferris wheel ’cause he didn’t like what the people riding in it were thinking about him. The wheel was going round and round. People were getting sick and screaming for real. He was fighting off the other carnies trying to stop it. It’s what got him into Alden.”

“Shit.”

“You’re right. Shit. You meet Brian yet? No? Did they tell you he didn’t even go into a hospital? His pushy mother is a friend of one of the doctors at Alden, and she talked him into letting him come here. Brian is a little nervous and unsure of himself. I’d be, too, if I had a bitch of a mother like his. It’s a new one on me.” She waves her hand. “Stanley’s another one with mother problems. He checked himself into Alden after a snake on the TV said he should kill the old lady.” Debbie sits on her bed. She’s a skinny girl with a square jaw so sharp it could cut paper. Her stick legs hang from beneath her flowered mini skirt. “Stanley’s totally harmless. So’s Jim. Lane’s a smart goofball. His folks have bucks. I don’t understand why they let him stay in a dump like this. Then there’s Kevin. You haven’t met him. He’s only a kid. Quiet. You won’t get much out of him.”

“Carole told me about her baby.”

She shrugs.

“We think she had a baby, but we don’t think the doctors are hiding her somewhere. Maybe the baby died. Maybe the state took her away. We really don’t know.” She shakes her head again. “It gets to you after a while. It’s going to happen to Paul if he’s not careful. He’s getting too buddy-buddy with a few of the guys. I see it coming.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

She shakes her head.

“I guess you’ll have to find out the hard way like I did. Somebody got this big idea to set up places like Swanson. They hire untrained people. They claim they’ll do just as good a job as the pros, like we’re supposed to be role models. Some great experiment.” She snorts. “It comes down to this. They’re shutting down the state hospitals and want a place to dump these people. They pump them up with meds and make sure they can work. You met Peg. At least she’s going home to her kids. I’m really happy for her. The rest? God’s honest truth? If they don’t take their meds, they’ll be back in a ward somewhere, except for Brian who’s never been in one. If they do take their meds, they’ll work some shitty job like packing boxes at Delta Millworks and live here at Swanson because it’s a cheap, safe place. Outside of Peg, I’ve seen only two people leave for good in the nine months I’ve been here.”

“Only two?”

“I’m not trying to scare you. Just take it as friendly advice. Don’t expect too much and keep your boundaries. And don’t stay here on your days off. You have a boyfriend? Yeah? Maybe it’ll work out for you here.” She reaches under her bed for a suitcase. “Dinner should be on the table soon. I won’t be staying. And another thing. Don’t believe a damn word that comes out of Angie’s mouth. She’ll brag about being a groupie. She was probably a stripper or maybe a hooker. She’s just found a good place to hide out for a while.” She opens the top drawer of her dresser. “And whatever you do, don’t lend her or anybody money because you’ll never get it back.”

Okay, here’s the link to buy The Swanson Shuffle in Kindle or paperback. And thank you if you do.

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The Swanson Shuffle

The Swanson Shuffle now ready to read

More than any book I’ve written, I am so pleased The Swanson Shuffle is now officially published. Don’t get me wrong, I am excited whenever a story I’ve been immersed in for oh so many months is officially a book. But The Swanson Shuffle has a long and complex history.

First, there was the inspiration. Like the book’s protagonist, Bia Fernandes, I lived and worked in a psychiatric halfway house. To be clear, however, this book is not a memoir, but Bia’s story to tell. The characters, including her, are fictional. But having had that experience, I felt I could write her story with authenticity. The only similarity in our experiences is that the halfway house is located in a funky old mansion that would be torn down after a highway is built.

Anyway, I wrote the book, which I called Walking in Place, in 1999. I failed to lure an agent. I entered it in publishers’ contests with no luck.

The following year, I did have an agent, but he passed on the book and instead agreed to represent my hilltowns novels, which alas, he couldn’t get published. Yes, it’s been a long, strange trip.

Then in early 2014, I rewrote Walking in Place and renamed it The Swanson Shuffle. Both titles refer to the side-effect of one drug a few of the residents of Swanson House take. (I also considered at one point the title, Crazy Daisy.)

The two versions have many of the same characters. But the protagonist is named Rose in the first book and Bia in second. Walking in Place is written in first-person past tense, and The Swanson Shuffle, in first-person present tense.

Walking in Place begins when one of the residents has been arrested. The Swanson Shuffle starts with Bia coming for a weekend as part of the interview process.

The first version has hardly any chapter breaks. The second, as is typical of my current writing style, has lots.

In the first book, a lot of the plot revolves around Rose’s relations with the staff, including a bit of romance. The second focuses on Bia’s relationships with the residents, who, frankly, are far more interesting than the staff.

From time to time, in between writing new books like my mystery series, I returned to The Swanson Shuffle, making changes here and there. And, the masochistic writer that I am, queried agents and small presses, now that they had become popular. Unfortunately, darkstroke books, which published nine of my books, closed shop last year. And the book doesn’t fit the catalogue of my current publisher, Bloodhound Books.

Though I received encouraging words about the book from some in the business, I am at the point now that I say, “No more begging.” I will do it myself. Certainly, self-publishing is acceptable. I taught myself how to do formatting, and I am fortunate my artist son, Ezra Livingston, creates great book covers. (Wait until you see the one he created for the next Isabel Long book that will be out June 4.)

And so, voila! The Swanson Shuffle is yours to read in Kindle or paperback on Amazon. Here’s the link.

I thank you in advance. And if you love reading the book as much as I did writing it, please leave a review.

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The Swanson Shuffle

Who’s Who in The Swanson Shuffle

As promised in my last post, I will share info about residents who live at Swanson House — the psychiatric halfway house in my new novel, The Swanson Shuffle, which has an April 30 release. Yikes, that’s getting closer.

I confess the characters I create in my novels are real to me. I know how they look, speak, and act. That’s true of the residents who live at Swanson House.

First a little info. Except for one, the residents are former patients from a public or private mental hospital. They pay minimal rent and have a job, typically at one of the factories in town. The residents are expected to keep up with their meds and have regular visits with a shrink. They have a few household chores.

Bia Fernandes, who tells this story, gets into being their helpmate despite zero experience. She also likes the residents, actually more than the other staff members, Ben, Nina, and Paul — with good reason.

Here’s a brief look at several.

Lane is a smart 20-something who came to Swanson from an upscale private hospital when the insurance runs out. He compiles his observations in small notebooks with titles like Twisted People. This from Debbie, the staff member Bia replaces: “Lane’s a smart goofball. His folks have bucks. I don’t understand why they let him stay in a dump like this.”

Kevin, the youngest resident, maybe 18, is Lane’s sidekick. If Lane is doing something, Kevin is with him — like going on the weekly grocery trip with Bia. He’s thin, with short brown hair, ears that stick out, and really bad skin. Not much is known about his background. The kid hardly talks. He’s a listener.

Angie is one wild woman, who claims to have been a groupie to big rock stars. She doesn’t hold back on her comments or actions. As Debbie warns Bia: “Don’t believe a damn word that comes out of Angie’s mouth. She’ll brag about being a groupie. She was probably a stripper or maybe a hooker. She’s just found a good place to hide out for a while.”

Jerry is the house’s cool guy who grew up poor in a New Jersey city. He got into drugs, and all the old stuff started coming up in a troubling way. He began hearing what people were thinking, and as Debbie tells Bia, “Nothing good’s going to come from that.” Jerry has a relationship of sorts with Angie. But he has goals beyond Swanson.

Who else is at Swanson House? Alice, who is much older than the other residents, falls asleep mid-sentence. Caroleclaims doctors stole her baby. Then there is Big Jim and Little Jim. Stanleyand Brian both have mother issues. Mark is the new guy.

Here’s a scene early in The Swanson Shuffle. Bia, who is spending the night as part of the interview process, plays cards with some of the residents.

Stanley deals me a lousy hand. No face cards, and I get low numbers and four suits. We’re playing for matchsticks. I haven’t won once although I came close when Jim’s three-of-a-kind beat my pair of aces. They tell me they used to play cards in the wards all the time.

“Don’t feel so bad,” Jerry says beside me. “We’ve had lots of practice.”

Jerry pushes against Kevin’s cards. All night he has to be told to keep them up. Kevin bats his lashes, and the skin around his acne reddens when he’s reminded.

Lane’s feet jump beneath the table and kick mine.

“What’s he got this time?” he asks.

“Never you mind,” Jerry says.

“I’ll take three,” I say.

Everybody laughs. They know I’ve got nothing, and the cards I’m dealt don’t help. I can’t even get a pair.

“Maybe we should be playing for money,” Jerry says, whistling as he lays two cards on the table.

Lane grins when he gets his.

Jim squints at him across the table. “Lane, you’d make a better poker player if you didn’t give away your cards. Don’t you know what a poker face is?”

“Poker face,” Lane says.

“Look at Kevin.” Jim nods. “He has the perfect poker face. Nobody can tell what’s going on inside. Now, if he can just keep his cards up, he’ll do fine.”

Kevin shoots Jim a grateful grin. The kid hardly talks. He’s a listener. Ben said Kevin is not quiet, he’s silent. He calls him Kevin the Spy.

I fold. Not even the best bluffer could fake their way out of this one. Jim is next, and he goes to the sink to fill the kettle for Sanka. He stands by the stove, waiting for the water to get hot enough while the others play out their hands. Jim marches in place because he takes the same drug as Lane. So does Stanley. They go every two weeks to get a shot at the hospital. They take Lane with them.

Angie enters the kitchen and begins circling the table. A bandana holds her hair, so it forms a lumpy halo around her head. She wears a long shift of paisley fabric with a v-neckline so low anybody could see her breasts.

“You gonna play all night?” Angie asks me on the third go-round.

“Why? You want to join us?”

Angie holds a square piece of paper by her side so no one else can see it. She sniggers.

“Nah, I wanna show you somethin’.”

“Hey, Jim, deal me out of the next hand,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”

Angie tips her head. She wants me to follow her into the pantry, and when I do, she yanks the pull chain on the bare bulb overhead and shuts the door. She lifts the paper.

“See. There.”

I bend closer. It’s a terrible photo of a man and woman, too dark, and whoever took it didn’t hold the camera steady. It could’ve been at a party or a bus station or any place really. I study the photo, and then Angie’s face. She thinks I should recognize these people. Angie frowns when the guys in the kitchen let out a roar. Somebody had a big hand.

“Is that you?” I ask.

“Yeah, me and Mick Jagger. It’s in New York. See his arm around me?”

I can’t see the arm, but I think I recognize her hair.

“When were you in New York?”

“When Mick was on tour. They let me go backstage. Neat, huh?”

She smiles when I tell her, “Yeah, really neat.”

Here’s the link to The Swanson Shuffle to buy as an eBook or paperback. Thank you if you do.

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