Read More of After The Fire

Here is the final first 15 pages of my book. I say final, but who knows what happens if a traditional publishing house buys it. Will they ask me to change it? I really hope not because I’ve given blood, sweat, and tears to bring my book to where it is. Truth is, you never know what you will have to fight for contractually when it comes to your work. I wrote it, had a friend read it, changed and edited it, sent it to a professional editor, had to add a point of view and major edits, then final edits from the second run through with my editor. NOW… I am nearly ready to submit to agents but still am editing the final pages. You can read the beginning though. Please comment on the blog at the end, and let me know how you like it thus far. I need the feedback. Remember, I’m submitting it to 10 agents by the first of November.

Happy Reading My Friends.

After The Fire

Chapter One

Arrival

           “Where do you go, when there is nowhere to go?”

            Gabriel read the words from the crisp pages of his complimentary newspaper left outside his hotel room door. That was all he read before tossing it onto the unmade bed and rushing to work that morning. Returning now to the quiet room, he surveyed the mess he’d left, and considered the paper once more, the headlines still talking of the tragic fire from a few months ago. A heavy sigh, he squinted his eyes, folded it in half, then tossed it unread onto the cheap hotel desk. Too much to think about.

      Gabriel was in a foul mood. The excavating company he worked for brought him to this rural community in northern California, to clean up after the Valley Fire swept through and destroyed over one thousand homes. It wasn’t the work that was upsetting. It was the fact that it was the holidays, and that particular time of year always tore at his heart. He thought being in a strange place would distract him. The truth was it made him feel more alone than ever.

The company was putting them up in the only large hotel chain in the area. The Best Western was the tallest building in the small town of Clearlake, reaching four stories high. Being the foreman, he didn’t have to share a room with other guys. He was alone and able to sulk all he wanted.

Three years earlier, it had been raining that Christmas Eve, and it was all over before Gabe even knew what hit them. The papers said the multi-car pileup on the freeway was caused by poor weather conditions, limited visibility, and high speeds. Gabe suffered his share of injuries, a fractured  arm, clavicle, ribs, and punctured lung, but Shelly’s side of the car was what took most of the hit. The doctors said she died instantly.

Once the casts were off, Gabe went to work. It was the only reason he had to get out of bed.

Coming to Lake County, to help rebuild the lives of so many that lost everything in the Valley Fire, he thought would lift his spirits. Being lonely around the holidays was just something he couldn’t shake. This particular Friday the thought of driving hours back to his apartment just didn’t sound like it would help so he stayed at the hotel while the rest of the guys went home. Maybe if he had a dog or something, he would have a reason to go, but alone here or there was still alone.

After showering and shaving, Gabe decided to head downstairs to grab a burger and a few beers. Maybe watch some football on the TV, if it was on. To his surprise, the small town bar was slammed and lively. There were loads of people shooting pool, watching the game, and talking loudly over the jukebox.

There was one lone seat at the far left of the bar, furthest away from the television, but closest to the kitchen entry. He could smell the aroma of cooking onions, and sizzling beef. Suddenly he was famished.

“What’s your pleasure my man?” The gentleman taking Gabe’s order had deep dimples that accompanied a kind smile.

“Oh, a Coors Light please, and can I order food?”

“Of course. Do you need a menu or can I make a suggestion?” the bartender asked.

“Um…well, sure. What do you recommend?”

“Well, the chicken fried steak is always good, but my personal Friday Night fav is a thick, juicy burger with sautéed onions. We have shoestring fries that go great with it too.”

Gabriel thought the guy read his mind and quickly agreed to the burger and fries. The cheery bartender winked at him and said he’d place the order right away. The long-neck bottle of Coors Light was placed in front of Gabe as the bartender disappeared into the kitchen.

The Stanford game was on the TV but the sound of Bruno Mars was blaring out from the jukebox. Gabe swiveled his barstool around to survey the room while taking a long swig off his beer. The group was mostly his age or younger.

At thirty-three, Gabe was an old soul. He never was a big partier and preferred more intimate gatherings. But somehow, being swallowed up in a crowd right now was comforting. It was easier than being back in the city, with Shelly’s and his friends feeling sorry for him. Nobody knew him here, or his story, and that’s the way he liked it.

The woman bartender appeared in front of Gabe, placing his plated burger in front of him along with a bottle of ketchup. She gave him a brief smile and quickly walked away to grab a chilled wine glass and a bottle of chardonnay to pour for another customer.

Just as the dimpled bartender promised, the burger was exactly what Gabe needed. The crisp, salty fries were cooked to perfection and he washed it all down with the beer. Before he could even ask for another, the guy just appeared in front of Gabe with a knowing look.

“Ready for another cold one?” The bartender leaned over to grab Gabe’s empty bottle.

“Yeah, you have great timing,” Gabe said.

As the bartender reached into a refrigerator under the counter, Gabe took a better look at him. The guy seemed a little older than he was with slightly weathered good looks. His light brown hair was a little long, and they were about the same height. His deep-set, dark eyes smiled just like his dimples. Although he was tanned, somehow, Gabe knew it wasn’t from being on the lake a lot. This guy seemed more like the outdoorsy, working kind of guy, like himself. That and his hands looked rough like his own. This guy didn’t spend all his time inside bartending that was for sure.

“So, what do you do?” Gabe asked as he took a swig of beer.

“Well right now, I’m your friendly neighborhood bartender. But I dabble in many fields. How about you?” the bartender asked.

“I’m here with the contractors for the fire clean up. I’m staying at the hotel.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t head out this evening like the others then. Don’t feel like going home for the weekend?” he asked.

“Let’s just say, I can be just as occupied here as there.” Gabe replied, having another pull on his bottle.

“Well, it’s a pleasure having you here. I know there are a lot of folks really grateful for any help speeding up the recovery process. That fire really kicked this community’s ass. Folks need hope, ya know?” The bartender got distracted by something and Gabriel turned on his barstool to see what was going on.

Three women were heading into the bar. The first was a lovely blonde with typically over-highlighted hair, jeans and heels. The next was a brunette in a long-sleeved dress and high-heeled boots. Finally, somewhat behind and entering more slowly, was a thin, honey haired girl with her head down. She wore simple jeans, tennis shoes, and a flannel shirt with a tank-top under it. When she looked up in the direction of her friends, her light green eyes were piercing, and something caught in Gabe’s chest. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“You, uh…Ok there my friend?” the bartender was asking.

Gabriel realized he hadn’t heard a word the guy had said. His focus was on the green-eyed girl.

“Sorry, man. No, I’m just fine, thanks,” Gabe smiled somewhat embarrassed.

“It’s understandable. I’m guilty of the same distractions,” the bartender said while staring in the girl’s direction himself. A dark shadow fell over the face of his otherwise cheerful bartender. “If you will excuse me, I need to grab some stuff, but I will be back,” and he disappeared down the hallway.

When Gabe returned his attention back to the girls, he saw a waitress over taking their orders. He didn’t want to seem too obvious with his intrigue, so he turned his barstool sideways to watch the TV screen and pretend to be interested in the game.

Gabe hadn’t dated or even thought of dating anyone since Shelly. He just didn’t have the heart to let go of the past yet, despite all their friends trying to set him up. He insisted it was too soon and he wasn’t ready to even think about it.

He snuck another glance in her direction. She looked like he felt, when HE was with his friends. Distracted, and uncomfortable, but trying to go along with the facade of the evening, she sipped her wine and looked around the room.

Suddenly, the girl locked eyes with Gabe and he felt a rush of heat flush his chest and face. She’d caught him looking. Gabe tried to slowly, casually turn his barstool back towards the TV.

“Be careful with that one,” the bartender said pulling Gabriel from his fog.

“What are you talking about?” Gabe pretended. He wasn’t ready to admit to himself that he felt interested in a woman, much less admit it to anyone else.

“She’s fragile. Don’t give it another thought unless you can respect that about her.”

Gabriel looked into the bartender’s eyes. He was dead serious.

“Not that I’m interested, but I take it you know her.”

“Everyone does,” he said. “She’s as local as it gets. But she’s had her fair share of hard knocks so, that’s why the warning.”

“Broken heart or…” Gabe’s question was left hanging in the air as the bartender stared at her pondering a response.

“More like shattered. She’s not recovered. Oh, she puts on a brave face, but… Anyway, it will take a very special guy for her to ever trust again,” and the bartender turned and started washing dishes.

Gabe drank more of his beer and turned his stool back to look towards the girl’s table. The green-eyed girl was shyly glancing towards Gabe periodically but then turned her chair to face her friends more directly. Gabe got the hint.

“Must have been some stupid guy to hurt a girl like that,” Gabe said in the bartender’s direction. “I have never been the player some guys are. I know something real when I have it. And anyway, who’s got the time for that?” and he finished off the last of his fries.

The friendly bartender turned and gave a small smile to Gabe, as he took the empty plate away and wiped the counter. “It’s too bad not more people had the same outlook as you. Truth is my friend, that most folks are always looking for the next best thing. Nobody is ever quite satisfied with what they have. Especially if things get rough, that’s when the weak give up.”

“So that’s what happened? Some guy left her in hard times?” Gabe asked.

The face of the bartender seemed pained at the question and soon Gabriel was sorry he asked. It was beginning to look like there was more to this story than the bartender had first let on and Gabe immediately felt like he should retract any further questioning.

“Hey, I don’t mean to pry, you don’t need to answer that. It’s really none of my business,” Gabe offered.

The bartender gave a forced laugh, “No, no. It’s quite alright. We all move on and so will she, but everyone here kind of watches out for her. Just so you know,” and he winked at Gabe then walked back into the kitchen with the plate.

He knew he shouldn’t be, but Gabe was now more intrigued than ever about this green-eyed beauty. It seemed so unfair that something as gentle as she could have gone through such trauma. And even though he was always missing Shelly, Gabriel had a yearning to get to know this girl. Approaching her in a bar was NOT the thing to do though, and Gabe knew it. She’d only think he was some slime ball trying to get her into bed. Some, out-of-towner looking for a one night stand. That couldn’t be further from the truth, so he dismissed the idea entirely.

Defeated, he decided to ask for the bill.

“Hey man, I think I’m ready to settle up,” Gabe said.

“Sure thing,” he said and pulled the bill from his apron. “I suppose we will be running into each other periodically since you are here for awhile.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. I’m Gabe, by the way,” and he extended his hand to the bartender.

Wiping his hand off on his apron, he reached to shake Gabe’s hand, “Max, and it’s great you guys are here to clean up so folks can rebuild.”

As he stood to go, Gabe leaned in to ask one last question of Max, even though he wasn’t sure what he’d do with the information.

“Hey, Max? I don’t know why I’m asking, but…what’s her name?”

Max eyes sparkled as he smiled at Gabe, letting him know it was ok he asked.

“Sarah. Her name is Sarah,” and he winked, then disappeared back into the kitchen.

 

************

            Sarah McKinney put on a brave face during the day, but each night, with the setting of the sun, her heart sunk with it. Her body was on constant autopilot, going through the motions of life just to get by.

Then the Valley Fire struck, leaving her best friend Michelle, homeless along with so many others. Diving into opportunities to serve, Sarah found she was able to put her own issues aside for a bit. That’s the only reason she was here tonight. Michelle’s husband took the kids to a movie so she could have a girl’s night out.

“Wow! I almost forgot what going to a bar was like,” Michelle said.

“A few years back and this would have been normal for a Friday night,” Stacy said.

Sarah scanned the room, trying to remember what all the hype was when they partied years ago. Nearly thirty now, she felt much older.

“Holy Cow,” Stacy said quietly. “Would you get a load of that guy at the end of the bar?”

They all looked up at the man sitting at the far left of the bar nursing a beer and trying to act as if he wasn’t looking at them.

The dark hair, athletic build, and strong jaw line were very appealing, but when the others looked away giggling, Sarah looked back and his cerulean blue eyes nearly stopped her heart. He was definitely not a local.

Sarah is the only one that could act on this opportunity,” Michelle stated.

Sarah snapped her attention back to the girls. “What are you talking about?”

“You should go over and talk to him. My, my he’s a hunk of burnin’ love,” growled Stacy.

Her friends laughed but Sarah couldn’t imagine doing that.

“Geez, yes. Let us live vicariously through you Sarah. If it weren’t for Caleb I’d be jumping at or on that,” Michelle said drinking from her glass.

“No way. You guys are crazy,” Sarah said casually turning to get a second look at the G.I. Joe stud at the bar.

He was watching television but turned just in time to lock eyes with Sarah, leaving her stunned, momentarily paralyzed. His stare bore right into her like he could see and know every part of her. Suddenly, Sarah felt very vulnerable so she turned her chair to face her friends more squarely.

“This would be a great way for Sarah to get back in the saddle. And by saddle, I mean ride ‘em cowboy!” Stacy snorted a laugh.

Smacking both her friends on their shoulders and struggling to not laugh out loud and make a scene, Sarah protested.

“Oh, I totally agree,” Michelle chimed in. “God knows it would be one helluva release. Hmmm.”

“STOP IT. Are you guys insane? You know there’s no way in hell I’m gonna go talk to him. Oh my God. Quit.”

“Well you might miss your chance. Looks like he’s paying his bill,” Michelle said.

They all watched the muscular guy in tight blue jeans turn to leave and the three women followed him out with their eyes. But there was something in Sarah’s stomach and throat that fluttered. Something that pulled as she watched him open the glass door to the bar and walk out, that felt vaguely familiar. Sipping her wine she realized what it was. Yearning.

 

************

Chapter Two

Coincidence

         The weekend flew by and all Gabe managed to do was drive around the county to survey the destruction of the Valley Fire. Since he’d decided to stay, he was curious to see what kind of damage wildfires did in California. Coming from Oklahoma, he’d seen how tornados could rip apart a house on one street, leaving the homes next to it completely untouched. It would seem that wildfire could do the same.

Monday morning the crew was all back and they were working with the Valley Fire Ops Chief and Cal Recycling for assignments. The debris at each site had to be surveyed before removing any of it. The Department of Toxic Substance Control and the Environmental Protection Agency were coordinating with everyone, as well as the Office of Emergency Services. It was by far the largest collaborative job Gabriel had ever worked on.

Once Gabe’s crew was given addresses for their assignments that week, they drove up the winding roads through the thickly forested hills. When they came upon the Valley Fire’s burn scar, everything opened up due to the lack of foliage. Enormous black sticks that used to be trees felt eerie, like a skeleton forest graveyard. The ashy landscape with its thick smell of soot seemed as foreign as being on the moon. It felt dead.

This was their third week working on clean up, and Gabriel still couldn’t get over what devastation he saw. They were told they’d be staying on the sites on Cobb Mountain for the remainder of their time in Lake County. They began in Middletown, a small country town at the base of Cobb Mountain, and that town was hit pretty hard. But seeing the rolling hills and valleys of Cobb left bare, save for the blackened stick trees, was far more unsettling. Everywhere was black or gray, everything was bare, and you could see there were few routes the residents would have had to get out.

Even though he didn’t experience the fire himself, Gabe could feel the ominous sorrow of the place. It was as if the land itself was mournful. Driving the roads now, he imagined the panic of hundreds of people, trying to flee on these narrow, two-lane roads, with smoke and fire baring down on them like a dragon from Hell.

Once they arrived on Evergreen Lane, there were no homes, only foundations, fireplaces, and paved driveways as far as he could see. Crudely painted signs posted at each site by Cal Recycle and other state partner teams provided the addresses they needed.

Gabe parked and got out to look around. The pungent smell of charred wood filled his nose. On a normal Monday morning this area would have been full of busy people headed to school or work, but now it was deathly quiet.

Double checking all of the home site’s information on his clipboard before they began, Gabe pointed to where the boys were to pull in the equipment, and they all suited up in Tyvek. Before long, they’d begun hauling off the remaining debris of 14650 Evergreen Lane.

Throughout the morning they never saw another civilian car come by. Only PG&E trucks, AT&T trucks, and even the Army Corp of Engineers, but just before lunch break, a minivan drove past and parked at the top of a long driveway, just a few sites away. His quick glimpse of the girls looked familiar. He heard the soft voices of women talking as they got out of the van.

“Hey Gabe. Where ya going, man?” Barry hollered. Barry was their water truck driver and the oldest guy working on the crew.

“Be right back. Just gonna check something out,” Gabriel waved him off and kept walking, carrying his large bottle of water.

As he approached, Gabe could hear the women talking.

“I’m not sure if you think I’m crazy for even trying, but I’m glad you agreed to come look with me one last time.”

He didn’t want to intrude and realized that it was a little too late for that. Both women looked up and stared right at him.

And there she was, the woman with the incredible green eyes. Suddenly, Gabriel found himself speechless and had to shake his head to find words to explain his being there.

“Um…Hello. I uh…We are working down the street and I heard voices and thought I’d come see…well if you needed anything.

The other woman stepped forward, elbowed Sarah and extended her hand. “I’m Michelle. This is…well, was my home. My friend, Sarah here, is being nice enough to help me try to find anything left of this place that’s even remotely salvageable.”

Gabe shook her hand and said, “I’m truly sorry for your loss. My boss’s company was subbed out to help in the cleanup process for the fire and we were assigned right down the street.”

He locked eyes with Sarah then and she slowly approached Gabe, putting her hands in her pockets as she walked over.

Gabe nodded to her, “Sarah, you said? Hello, I’m Gabriel Hart.”

“Yeah, I’m Sarah McKinney. Hello,” she offered back, very apprehensive but continued to keep eye contact with Gabe nonetheless.

“I know it has to be done,” Michelle started, “but I just know I’m going to lose it when they have to haul off this ash pile. My husband is at work and we must have been here half a dozen times together already. I just wanted to try one more time. Believe it or not, I’ve found my mother’s wedding ring. My friend, Charlotte, she lived a couple of blocks from here, she also found jewelry at her place. Strange huh?”

Michelle started pacing a little, wringing her hands as she looked around her gray and blackened property.

“I guess we are just lucky to be alive. I keep telling myself that whenever I get emotional. We almost didn’t make it out. I had just come home from the store and was unpacking groceries and didn’t want to answer the phone. I let it go to the machine but the damn thing kept ringing! I heard sirens but they were off in the distance and I didn’t pay it any mind. Caleb, that’s my husband, was out working in the garage. Our kids were at his brother’s house, thank God. By the time I had three phone calls in a row I decided I’d better answer it. It was my sister-in-law and she was rambling so fast I thought something had happened to one of the kids. She said for us to get out now! We had to leave. We had to go because fire was coming our way! I had no idea what she was talking about. My husband’s brother is a fireman and they’d heard about it over his radio. Well I slammed the phone down and ran outside. I smelled smoke but that was it. I thought…they must have been mistaken. It HAD to be far from us.”

************

        Sarah wrapped an arm around her friend and rubbed her back. Michelle had lost so much. She couldn’t spare a moment to worry about what Gabriel might be thinking of all this, instead she stood close to her friend and let her talk. Tears were building in Michelle’s eyes, her hands shook, while a flush of pink crept up her neck to her face as she relived her story.

“I ran to tell Caleb and he came outside and looked too. He said we should pack some stuff and go, just in case. But what the hell do you take? I grabbed a photo album off the coffee table that had our vacation pictures from last year in it, a change of clothes for each of us…just a change. I mean, we were coming right back, right? I grabbed our dog, Sadie, and threw her into the car and got her kibble. I even fed the fish. Why, I don’t know. They didn’t have a chance. Thank God Caleb remembered to grab our flash drives.

“By the time we were loading stuff up a man was running up and down the street screaming for everyone to get out. GO NOW, he was shouting, and there was such thick smoke then, I was really getting scared. When we got to the bottom of the hill and had to decide which way to go, we panicked. What if we made the wrong choice and got stuck! The fire was baring down on us and cars were flying down but seeing was difficult and it was hard to tell which direction the fire was going. Caleb chose to go towards Lower Lake and it worked out for us, obviously. But yes, this is what we returned to after waiting for a week to come see if we had a house or not.”

Michelle wiped her tears and nervously laughed at herself. “I must seem like a crazy person to you. Here I am telling a perfect stranger my tragic little story.”

Simultaneously, Gabriel and Sarah said, “No, you are not.”

They three laughed, breaking the tension of the moment.

“Listen,” Gabe said reaching into his shirt pocket to pull out a few business cards, “I’m in town until our contract runs out. I really don’t know how long that will be because the powers that be have been unsure themselves. However, I would like to help. If you find you need extra hands over the weekend, I’m staying at the Best Western with some of the crew. They usually go home on the weekend but I’ve been staying so, if you find you could use a hand with…I don’t know, anything, just call.”

Sarah took his card and felt a tingle as their fingers touched. “The Best Western? We saw you there last Friday night at the bar, didn’t we?”

Again, Michelle’s elbow, and she was jumping in. “You know we did. He was the interesting guy at the end of the bar. Sarah noticed you and…”

Sarah reached up and gave Michelle a sharp squeeze on the back of her arm.

“Anyway, we just knew you were there,” Michelle finished.

Gabriel blushed, smiling at them with his incredible dimples and perfect teeth. He was too adorable, she thought. Dangerous.

“I won’t take up more of your time but I hope to hear from you. The guys are probably wondering what happened to me though. I should get back to work.”

Sarah just nodded but Michelle spoke up, “We certainly will call Gabriel. Have a great day and thanks for coming over.”

As he turned to leave, he gave Sarah one last flash of those amazing eyes and she watched him walk away. Oh Lord.

When she looked back at her friend, Michelle was grinning from ear to ear, mocking her knowingly.

“WHAT?” Sarah hissed quietly.

“Oh…you are in so much trouble my friend,” Michelle giggled. “It’s all over your face.”

************

        That night at the hotel, Gabe sat in a chair near the fourth floor window of his room. Three years cloaked beneath the suffocating, dark shroud of loss, left Gabe unaware of the suffering of others. Being in this place, listening to Michelle’s story, he’d felt something for the first time in three years. It was strange to admit to himself but this was the most alive he’d felt since Shelly’s death. Gabe wanted to help these people. Somehow, sharing in their pain and wanting to do something to better their situation made him feel like he found something to live for.

And there was something else. It was the undeniable feeling he got in his chest when he thought of her. Emotions Gabe thought were dead forever inside of him, welled up more powerful than he could fathom. The soft sweetness of a girl, somewhat demure, had a hold on him in only two times that he’d ever seen her. He was either going to be saved by this woman or she’d surely be the end of him. But for the first time in a long time, Gabe felt like taking a chance. When he closed his eyes that night to sleep, the last thing he remembered was the touch of her hand, and the look in her eyes.

************

OK FRIENDS… so there you have it. That’s the first 15 pages of my book. The final draft. I hope you are intrigued and want to read more. If so, then that’s exactly what I need and what the agents want to hear. If you truly feel compelled to read on, please leave a comment so when they come to my blog later, trying to decide whether or not to sign me, they will feel like this book is already selling, before it’s even published, and they will be more opt to work with me.

Thanks for your support.

If It Were Easy Everyone Would Do It! Writing A Book And Getting It Published.

Summer has come and gone and with it, my deadline. Two years and nine months ago I started this project. I have to say, I’ve felt more anxiety about getting my book to a publisher now more than before. I think it’s mostly because I had all these intentions of sending it off to the agent before summer was over, yet life seems to get in the way.

My editor had my manuscript longer than she intended. Her life had stumbled upon some bad times. Completely understandable. However now, the weeks I had free to do the final edits slipped away and by the time she was done with it, I was already back to work at the public K-7 school where I’m the librarian. Now finding the time is exponentially more difficult.

So what have I learned? Writing a book and having it published in the traditional way means you are in the waiting game. I’d still have had to have it professionally edited even with self-publishing it. That’s a given because I will never put out a project that isn’t my very best. But I wouldn’t have the anxiety of  the connections I originally made in the publishing industry months ago might now be long forgotten. You know the saying strike while the iron is hot…well, I’m worried it’s cooled by now.

I can only hope that when I’m done with the final edits, that my book will get enough interest, that the memory of them wanting it won’t be necessary. I can’t even imagine the dozens of manuscripts they’ve read since I last spoke with any of them. UGH!

So I plug along and continue to make the final edits as my editor sends the pages back. At least it’s going much faster this time. With this edit it’s more word choice, grammar, and making cuts if necessary. Content and timelines were addressed in the other edit so that’s good. I gotta say, knowing what I know now, I will approach my next book with a better understanding, and hopefully not have to waste so much time learning the process.

That’s it for now folks, because AFTER THE FIRE, needs my attention instead of the book blog.

Thanks for continuing to follow my progress, and I look forward to being able to say…AND IT’S OFF…when I send it out to the agent with my fingers crossed.

Have a lovely week friends.

  • Second picture of Frustrated Writer from Google Images. First is mine

 

 

Top 3 Reasons To Edit Your Book Professionally

    Editing my book was a beast! Don’t think you can edit your own material and do it justice. When I hired professional help in editing my novel, AFTER THE FIRE, I soon realized I was too close to the project to objectively see it. Now that I am about to send it off to a literary agent, I am grateful I spent the money for someone to tell it to me straight. 

“I think you have something really special here,” is what my editor told me. This came after she said she made a lot of comments on my manuscript that I would need to go over. It’s hard to not take things personal when you are talking about your craft, your work for the last two and a half years, your baby! But if you want to produce the best possible novel, you really need a professional editor, and I’ll tell you why.

This is a complicated industry. There are rules that people don’t think about when they are creating a story to sell. You’d think it would be simple. Write a book, submit it to multiple agents, someone picks it up and sells it to a big publishing house, and you become famous and independently wealthy… WRONG!

There are many things to consider once the manuscript is complete, but the first one and most important before you do ANYTHING, is have it edited by someone who specializes in your genre. That’s right, not just any editor. Someone who knows the industry and how it works in the genre you plan to sell your book in. If you write science-fiction you wouldn’t want a romance editor to edit your book.

So this is REASON NUMBER 1: A professional editor that specializes in your genre will help guide you and mold your manuscript towards the best possible outcome for being picked up by an agent that also specializes in your genre. Professional editors know the market and the do’s and don’ts, or requirements, of the genre you write in. Listen, and heed their advice.

I thought I knew by reading so many books in my genre, which is romance, (or so I thought), exactly what my audience wanted. What I didn’t know is a romance novel has a required word count to be picked up by certain houses. Did you know that? I didn’t. But that’s why I paid someone who did know.

Also there are certain houses that will only take romance if it’s sweet, (no sex ), some that print books with sex only after marriage, and some that like steamy romance,( bring on the sex). It’s important to have someone help you navigate these waters. I’ve learned that. And each type of romance novel also has a different recommended word count. UGH!

REASON NUMBER 2: You need someone with fresh eyes to read your novel that understands plot holes and pacing. This is vital. Seriously, I thought my story was solid and it was pretty good, but not the best book I could write. When you are the writer, you see it inside your own head and put it to paper. Sometimes what you envisioned doesn’t make the mark. Sometimes you ramble, sometimes you miss timelines or over shoot them. A professional editor will catch these significant details and help you not only hone your craft, but tighten up your story so the reader is propelled forward.

Many people have asked me what it costs for an editor to do this. I can only answer from my personal experience with my own editor, and it’s costing me about three cents a word. Depending on the type of book you have and the word count, it might differ, but that seems to be the going rate for a novel.

The last reason is probably the most obvious but still critical as far as I’m concerned. REASON NUMBER 3: A professional editor will check for spelling, grammar, and punctuation. I try to be sure and get all that correct and even double check it so as not to embarrass myself, but I still miss things. I really hate it when I am reading a book and find errors that still went to print. I don’t want that to happen in my book.

Thank you for following my journey on getting AFTER THE FIRE published. If the same agent that wanted the entire manuscript back in February, is still interested in my book, then I’m one step closer to getting it picked up by a publishing house. Pray she likes it when she reads it. Then pray she can sell it!

I will continue to report on my progress. Until then, happy reading and many blessings to you all.

 

 

 

That’s a Wrap! / Editing Is Hard Work

  Yes I cried.

But happy tears, because I was thrilled! I had worked so hard to revise my manuscript for AFTER THE FIRE, that when I typed the last words into my computer today for the new and improved book, I couldn’t contain my emotions. This has been my baby since November 2015. When you work that long on something, it becomes a part of you. 

This afternoon, I contacted my editor, Jen, and said I had finally finished with the revision. She gave me some hard facts about the original manuscript regarding genre and how we were going to market the book, that I literally had to tear the story apart and redo a lot of it. It was daunting and I admit, at first I was overwhelmed. But once I got into it, I loved the story even more.

The story hasn’t changed. It’s still the hunky excavating operator that comes to Lake County after the Valley Fire, and falls in love with not only the community, but with a local girl as well. It’s just that now, we get to hear everything from our country girl, Sarah McKinney’s point of view too. I think it made it way more interesting and it gives you more of the whole story.

Above is my dorky, poor quality picture, but I was alone when I completed my long awaited task and I had to record the occasion, regardless of the fact that I hadn’t showered or done my make up. Writing is all that’s been on my mind until I finished. My house has been neglected (husband somewhat as well), and now I feel so accomplished, I will actually spend time tomorrow cleaning and being a domestic goddess once more… ok that’s a stretch but I will mop my floors.

What’s next Patti, you might be asking. Well, I spoke with my editor today briefly and she said by the end of the month, (and that’s just a rough idea), she should have my book back to me with grammatical corrections and suggested changes, should she still find issues. I’m truly hoping I fixed any plot or timeline issues already, so it shouldn’t be too awfully long from now that I will be querying the agent who showed interest in my book back at the San Francisco Writers Conference in February. Fingers crossed folks!

 But today,

I’m celebrating this hurdle. I am closer than I’ve ever been before to actually publishing a book. THIS book, is very personal not only to me, but to so many friends and community members that I am hoping I don’t let anyone down. It is my intention to bring all who have ever experienced tragedy through either fire, or the loss of love, a happily ever after.

If you want to read the first scene of After The Fire, I previously posted it in my blog and you can click here to read. Once my editor decides she likes what I’ve done, I will post another scene to get y’all hooked before the book is published and you are able to hold the real article your hands.

Once again, thank you for all your support. I am getting closer and closer. I wish you all a relaxing and fun remainder of your summer. Make memories with your family and live, laugh, and love with all your hearts.

Cheers!

 

The Edited Opening Scene/ After The Fire

 As promised,

here is the edited opening scene with the addition of Sarah’s point of view. I hope you like it. This will be longer than a regular blog post so, sit back, grab a beverage, ( if you are like me, coffee or wine depending on the time of day), and enjoy. Happy reading friends.

After the Fire

By Patricia Diener

 

Gabriel was in a foul mood. The excavating company he worked for brought him to this rural community in northern California, to clean up after the big Valley Fire swept through and destroyed over 1,000 homes. It wasn’t the work that was upsetting. It was the fact that it was the holidays now, and that particular time of year always left him blue. He thought being in a strange place would distract him. The truth was it made him feel more alone than ever.

He was staying in the only large hotel chain in the area. The Best Western was the tallest building in the small town of Clearlake, reaching 4 stories high. At least he didn’t have to share a room with one of the guys. Being a foreman, he got a room paid for by the company all to himself. That way he could sulk alone.

Three years earlier, just before Christmas, he was traveling on Interstate 680 outside of Fremont with his girlfriend Shelly. They were on their way to her parent’s house to stay for the holidays. Gabe had been living with Shelly in the Bay Area city of San Ramon for over a year, and since his family was back in Oklahoma, Shelly’s family was who they were celebrating with.

It was raining that Christmas Eve, and it was all over before Gabe even knew what hit them. The papers said the multi-car pileup on the freeway was caused by poor weather conditions, limited visibility, and high speeds. Gabe suffered his share of injuries, a fractured  arm, clavicle, ribs, and punctured lung, but Shelly’s side of the car was what took most of the hit. The doctors said she died instantly.

Gabe stayed in California and continued to work for the excavating company as a heavy equipment operator. He was reluctant to stay because his family in Oklahoma pleaded with him to come home, but Tommy Dermont, the owner of the excavating company, seemed to understand what Gabe needed. Work. It was decent pay and moving to a neighboring city of Danville, he tried to keep his mind off of Shelly.

Coming to Lake County, to help rebuild the lives of so many that lost everything in the Valley Fire, he thought would lift his spirits. Being lonely around the holidays was just something he couldn’t shake. This particular Friday he thought of driving the 3 hours back to his apartment in Danville, but going to an empty place just didn’t sound like it would help. Maybe if he had a dog or something. But alone was still alone. He decided to just stay on at the hotel and go grab a drink in the lobby bar.

After showering and shaving, Gabe decided to head downstairs and grab a burger at the bar and a few beers. Maybe watch some football on the TV, if it was on. He knew most of the guys would probably be headed back to the city by now but that suited him just fine. He’d seen them all week, and he wasn’t particularly close friends with any of them. Gabriel was somewhat of a loner, not trusting his heart to rely on a single soul.

To his surprise, the small town bar was slammed and lively. There were loads of people shooting pool, watching the game, and talking loudly over the jukebox. Behind the bar they had three bartenders, one woman and two men.

Walking up to the bar, Gabe waited to make eye contact with one of the bartenders to place his order. There was one lone seat at the far left of the bar, furthest away from the television, but closest to the kitchen entry. He could smell the aroma of cooking onions, and sizzling beef. Suddenly he was famished.

“What’s your pleasure my man?” The gentleman taking Gabe’s order had deep dimples that accompanied a kind smile.

“Oh, a Coors Light please, and can I order food?”

“Of course. Do you need a menu or can I make a suggestion?” the bartender asked.

“Um…well, sure. What do you recommend?”

“Well, the chicken fried steak is always good, but my personal Friday Night fav is a thick, juicy burger with sautéed onions. We have shoestring fries that go great with it too.”

Gabriel thought the guy read his mind and quickly agreed to the burger and fries. The cheery bartender winked at him and said he’d place the order right away. The long-neck bottle of Coors Light was placed in front of Gabe as the bartender disappeared into the kitchen.

The Stanford game was on the TV but the sound of Bruno Mars was blaring out from the jukebox. Gabe swiveled his barstool around to survey the room while taking a long swig off his beer. The group was mostly his age or younger.

At 33, Gabe was an old soul. He never was a big partier and preferred more intimate gatherings. But somehow, being swallowed up in a crowd right now seemed more comforting. It was easier than being back in the city, with Shelly’s and his friends feeling sorry for him. Nobody knew him here, or his story, and that’s the way he liked it.

The woman bartender appeared quickly in front of Gabe, placing his plated burger in front of him along with a bottle of ketchup. She gave a brief smile and quickly walked away to grab a chilled wine glass and a bottle of chardonnay to pour for another customer.

Just as his dimpled bartender promised, the burger was just what Gabe needed. The crisp, salty fries were cooked to perfection and he washed it all down with the beer. Before he could even ask for another, the guy just appeared in front of Gabe with a knowing look.

“Ready for another cold one?” The bartender leaned over to grab Gabe’s empty bottle.

“Yea, you have great timing,” Gabe said.

As the bartender reached into a refrigerator under the counter, Gabe took a better look at him. The guy seemed a little older than he was with slightly weathered good looks. His light brown hair was a little long, and he was around Gabe’s height. When he set the beer down, Gabe could see he had deep-set, dark eyes that smiled just like his dimples. Although he was tanned, somehow, Gabe knew it wasn’t from being on the lake a lot. This guy seemed more like the outdoorsy, working kind of guy, like Gabe himself. That and his hands looked rough like Gabe’s. This guy didn’t spend his time inside bartending for his main living that was for sure.

“So, what do you do?” Gabe asked as he took a swig of beer.

“Well right now, I’m your friendly neighborhood bartender. But I dabble in many fields. How about you?” the bartender asked.

“I’m here with the contractors for the fire clean up. I’m staying at the hotel.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t head out this evening like the others then. Don’t feel like going home for the weekend?” he asked.

“Let’s just say, I can be just as occupied here as there.” Gabe replied, having another pull on his bottle.

“Well, it’s a pleasure having you here. I know there are a lot of folks really grateful for any help speeding up the recovery process. That fire really kicked this community’s ass. Folks need hope, ya know?” The bartender got distracted by something and Gabriel turned his barstool to see what was going on.

Three women were heading into the bar. The first was a lovely blonde with typically over-highlighted hair, jeans and heels. The next was a brunette in a long-sleeved dress and high-heeled boots. Finally, somewhat behind and entering more slowly, was a thin, honey haired girl with her head down. She wore simple jeans, tennis shoes, and a flannel shirt with a tank-top under it. When she looked up in the direction of her friends, her light green eyes were piercing, and something caught in Gabe’s chest.

“Things are hummin’ in here tonight. Let me know if I can get you anything else,” the bartender said walking into the kitchen.

“Ok, thanks,” Gabe replied without turning his barstool back. He was watching the girls settle into a corner table in the back of the room.

“You, uh…Ok there my friend?” the bartender asked when he returned.

Gabriel realized he was rude and momentarily lost concentration. He had to almost shake his head in order to look away from the green-eyed girl.

“Sorry, man. No, I’m just fine, thanks,” Gabe smiled somewhat embarrassed.

“It’s understandable. I’m guilty of the same distractions,” the bartender said while staring in the girl’s direction himself. Suddenly, Gabriel looked at the guy and saw a dark shadow fall over the face of his otherwise cheerful bartender. “If you will excuse me, I need to grab some stuff, but I will be back,” and the bartender disappeared down the hallway.

When Gabe returned his attention back to the girls, he saw a waitress over taking their orders. He didn’t want to seem too obvious with his intrigue, so he turned his barstool sideways to watch the TV screen and pretend to be interested in the game.

Gabe hadn’t dated or even thought of dating anyone since Shelly. He just didn’t have the heart to let go of the past yet, despite all Shelly’s and his friends trying to set him up. He insisted it was too soon and he wasn’t ready to even think about it. They respected his wishes and left it alone. So that is exactly what Gabe was getting use to. Being alone.

A strange feeling came over him though, sitting in that bar, and her quiet, solitary mood, drew Gabriel to look at her again. She looked like he felt, when HE was with his friends. Distracted, and uncomfortable, but trying to go along with the facade of the evening, she sipped her wine and looked around the room.

Suddenly, the girl locked eyes with Gabe and he felt a rush of heat flush his chest and face. She’d caught him looking with fixated eyes on her. Gabe tried to slowly, casually turn his barstool back towards the TV.

“Be careful with that one,” the bartender said pulling Gabriel from his fog.

“What are you talking about?” Gabe pretended. He wasn’t ready to admit to himself that he felt interested in a woman, much less admit it to anyone else.

“She’s fragile. Don’t give it another thought unless you can respect that about her.”

Gabriel looked into the bartender’s eyes. He was dead serious.

“Not that I’m interested, but I take it you know her.”

“Everyone does,” he said. “She’s as local as it gets. But she’s had her fair share of hard knocks so, that’s why the warning.”

“Broken heart or…” Gabe’s question was left hanging in the air as the bartender stared at her pondering a response.

“More like shattered. She’s not recovered. Oh, she puts on a brave face, but…Anyway, it will take a very special guy for her to ever trust again,” and the bartender turned and started washing dishes.

Gabe drank more of his beer and turned his stool back to look towards the girl’s table. The green-eyed girl was shyly glancing towards Gabe periodically but then turned her chair to face her friends more directly. Gabe got the hint.

“Must have been some stupid guy to hurt a girl like that,” Gabe said in the bartender’s direction. “I have never been the player some guys are. I know something real when I have it. And anyway, who’s got the time for that?” and he finished off the last of his fries.

The friendly bartender turned and gave a small smile to Gabe, as he took the empty plate away and wiped the counter. “It’s too bad not more people had the same outlook as you. Truth is my friend, that most folks are always looking for the next best thing. Nobody is ever quite satisfied with what they have. Especially if things get rough, that’s when the weak give up.”

“So that’s what happened? Some guy left her in hard times?” Gabe asked.

The face of the bartender seemed pained at the question and soon Gabriel was sorry he asked. It was beginning to look like there was more to this story than the bartender had first let on and Gabe immediately felt like he should retract any further questioning.

“Hey, I don’t mean to pry, you don’t need to answer that. It’s really none of my business,” Gabe offered.

The bartender gave a forced laugh, “No, no. It’s quite alright. It’s just that they were kind of local royalty, ya know. Everyone knew them. And the story has a crazy turn. The guy ended up dying in an accident too. So she was slammed twice..” the bartender waved his arms as if to brush away smoke and memories from right in front of him. “Anyway, what are ya gonna do, right? We all move on and so will she, but everyone here kind of watches out for her. Just so you know,” and he winked at Gabe then walked back into the kitchen with the plate.

He knew he shouldn’t be, but Gabe was now more intrigued than ever about this green-eyed beauty. It seemed so unfair that something as gentle as she could have gone through such trauma. And even though he was always missing Shelly, Gabriel had a yearning to get to know this girl. Approaching her in a bar was NOT the thing to do though, and Gabe knew it. She’d only think he was some slime ball trying to get her into bed. Some, out-of-towner looking for a one night stand. That couldn’t be further from the truth, so he dismissed the idea entirely.

Terrible timing. In the three years since Shelly was gone, nobody and nothing had pulled his heartstrings. Now here he was, just yards from a fragile bird of a girl that he’d love to meet, and he couldn’t even go say hello for fear of her misunderstanding his intentions.

Gabriel thought to order one last beer, just for a reason to stick around, but he was truly full to his eyeballs and there wasn’t going to be an opportunity to speak with this girl tonight without seeming forward anyway. Defeated, he decided to ask for the bill.

When the bartender came back he was carrying one more tray of clean glasses and set them behind the counter.

“Hey man, I think I’m ready to settle up,” Gabe said.

“Sure thing. Gonna turn in already?” he asked as he pulled the bill from his apron.

Gabe smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Yea, I know it’s a Friday night, but the week has been long and I think I will just fall asleep to the TV.”

“Big partier huh?” the bartender laughed. “I know, I’m pretty much the same. I can’t remember the last time I really tore it up. But I suppose we will be running into each other periodically since you are here for a while.”

“Yeah, that would be great. I’m Gabe, by the way,” and he extended a hand to the bartender.

Wiping his hand off on his apron, he reached to shake Gabe’s hand, “Max, and it’s great you guys are here to clean up so folks can rebuild.”

As he stood to go, Gabe leaned in to ask one last question of Max, even though he wasn’t sure what he’d do with the information.

“Hey, Max? I don’t know why I’m asking, but…what’s her name?”

Max eyes sparkled as he smiled at Gabe, letting him know it was ok that he asked. “Sarah. Her name is Sarah,” and he winked and disappeared back into the kitchen.

 

************

Life for Sarah McKinney hadn’t been easy. The past year had been particularly difficult. The infidelity then sudden death of her young husband brought her to her knees with anguish. She put on a brave face during the day, but each night, with the setting of the sun, her heart sunk with it. Her body was on constant autopilot, going through the motions of life just to get by.

Then the Valley Fire struck, leaving so many of her friends homeless and Sarah found herself compelled to help. Diving into opportunities to serve, Sarah was able to somewhat put her own issues aside.

Her best friends since childhood, Michelle and her husband Caleb, lost everything in the fire. Sarah and Michelle both worked together at Wildhurst Winery and after work, on this particular Friday night, Sarah just wanted to go home, soak her tired body in a tub and drink a glass of wine with Nina Simone playing in the background but Michelle had other ideas.

“We are going out with Stacy, and having a drink at El Grande! It’s Friday night and Caleb has the kids so I want a girl’s night. Come on Sarah. It will do you some good too and I could use some cheering up,” Michelle gave the pouty face to Sarah.

“Of course I’ll go. How can I resist the pouty face?” Sarah said.

The three ladies closed Wildhurst Winery and followed each other to the hotel bar in Clearlake. They walked into the open, four-story, atrium that led them to the bar that was already brimming with loud music.

After taking the last corner table, a waitress came to take their order. Stacy and Michelle ordered cocktails but Sarah stuck with what worked for her. Wine.

“Wow. I almost forgot what going to a bar was like,” Michelle said.

“A few years back and this would have been normal for a Friday night,” Stacy said.

Sarah scanned the room, trying to remember what all the hype was when they partied in their earlier twenties. Being twenty-nine, Sarah felt much older than her years. The crowd in the bar was full of people her own age but still she felt out of place.

“Holy cow,” Stacy said quietly. “Would you get a load of that guy at the end of the bar?”

They all looked up at the man sitting at the far left of the bar nursing a beer and trying to act as if he wasn’t looking at them.

The dark hair, athletic build, and strong jaw line were very appealing, but when the others looked away giggling, Sarah looked back and his cerulean blue eyes nearly stopped her heart. He was definitely not a local.

“Sarah is the only one that could act on this opportunity,” Michelle stated.

Sarah snapped her attention back to the girls. “What are you talking about?”

“You should go over and talk to him. My, my he’s a hunk of burnin’ love,” growled Stacy.

The girls all laughed but Sarah couldn’t imagine doing that.

“Geez, yes. Let us live vicariously through you Sarah. If it weren’t for Caleb I’d be jumping at or on that,” Michelle said drinking from her glass.

“No way. You guys are crazy,” Sarah said casually turning to get a second look at the G.I. Joe stud at the bar.

He was looking at the television but turned just in time to lock eyes with Sarah, leaving her stunned, momentarily paralyzed. His stare bore right into her like he could see and know every part of her. Suddenly, Sarah felt very vulnerable so she turned her chair to face her friends more squarely on.

“This would be a great way for Sarah to get back in the saddle. And by saddle, I mean ride ‘em cowboy!” Stacy snorted a laugh.

Smacking both her friends on their shoulders and struggling to not laugh out loud and make a scene, Sarah protested.

“Oh, I totally agree,” Michelle chimed in. “God knows it would be one helluva release. Hmmm.”

“STOP IT. Are you guys insane? You know there’s no way in hell I’m gonna go talk to him. Oh my God. Quit.”

“Well you might miss your chance. Looks like he’s paying his bill,” Michelle said.

They all watched the muscular guy in tight blue jeans turn to leave and the three women followed him out with their eyes. But there was something in Sarah’s stomach and throat that fluttered. Something that pulled as she watched him open the glass door to the bar and walk out, that felt vaguely familiar. Sipping her wine she realized what it was. Yearning.

*****

*photo from Google Images

Two Protagonists, Double the Fun

  Hey Gang! Editing is hard work.

It’s only beginning with this rewrite, but my wheels are spinning, the fingers are flying across the chiclet style keys of my laptop, and I am feeling my character Sarah Mckinney, becoming more a part of this story. Her voice will be heard and instead of this novel only coming from the point of view of Gabriel Hart, you will truly understand Sarah now as well. This will be both of their stories.

I’m toying with the idea of giving you readers a preview of what’s to come from Sarah. Probably not the next post, but the following, I will give you a taste of what goes on inside of Sarah McKinney’s head.

Coming to the decision of writing both perspectives was not as difficult as I thought it would be. Actually, since I’ve written these people for the last two years and feel like I know them intimately, (writers will understand), I realized that it was the only logical way to go. I only wish I did it sooner.

 Deadlines are helpful.

I’m giving myself a deadline for having the entire book revised and ready for second editing by mid May. That gives me close to 6 weeks to get it all done. I think it’s doable. If I set my sites on this being the case, I hope to send off my manuscript in June to the agent that was interested at the San Francisco Writers Conference. Just using the Law of Attraction, and Power of Intention. You simply gotta believe.

That’s it for this week folks. I will keep you all up to speed as I’ve promised and in the very near future,  some of Sarah’s pages will be on pattidienerwrites.com for you to see first hand.

And as Stephen King would say, “When you write a book, you spend day after day scanning and identifying the trees. When you are done, you have to step back and look at the forest.”

 

Romance or Woman’s Fiction? That is the question.

 I set out to write romance

and yet at the end of the day, I’m struggling with what genre my book actually is. What difference does it make, you might be asking. Well a really big one. It all boils down to dollars my friends. Agents have to know exactly what they are getting so they can sell your book and make money, honey.

Here’s the thing, if you don’t stick to a particular genre, then the editor cannot edit the book for that market. If you submit the manuscript to an agent that only likes Romance novels but avoids Woman’s Fiction and your book is just that, then you are going to be rejected. There are very strict guidelines in publishing and I am learning more and more about this. So basically, I am teetering on the brink of going outside of my genre and I have to choose.

After beating my head against a wall and several cups of coffee later, I looked up and it was after 12:00 noon. I’d been at it for hours and I realized I should walk away and gain some perspective.

Spring has sprung and I was happy to be outside. It’s my favorite time of year. The awakening of life and new hope. YEAH! The things we have been putting on hold because of the winter are now going to slowly get started. I am excited to work on our second faze of rebuilding our destroyed backyard from what the Clayton Fire did. Being outdoors and feeling the sun on your face is healing.

My husband worked whenever possible this winter at removing the most dangerous tree debris and hauling out the large logs. Now he is starting to find our old irrigation that was partially damaged from the dozer going through to create a fire break. He has made great progress and hopes to get our lawn in the backyard replanted soon. It’s only ONE of the many things to do out there.

The pictures aren’t the best because my camera is in the shop and I had to use my phone, but the patio was poured last season and I’m loving it! A pergola will be added and our youngest wants an outdoor bar. As you can see, we still have more tree work to do and fencing to repair. It’s a work in progress but coming along. The resilience of Mother Nature is amazing though, and there is much green coming back and our seasonal creek below is still a blessing. Walking around out there made me breath deeply and I smiled, feeling the sun touch my skin.

It made my writing anxiety drift away being outdoors. The temperatures outside today were in the mid 70’s and my tulips and daffodils are coming up. Everywhere I looked it was green in my little valley.

Something special that our tree guy Kyle, did is in the picture below.

 This tree died and had to come down.

It was below my brother-in-law and his wife’s house right down our street, and was huge! The oak tree was magnificent and quite old and we all loved it. Sadly, the fire killed it but when Kyle took it down, he noticed this lightning like split within the tree. He cut a large D for Diener, in the remains and told us it was our new symbol. The Lightning D Ranch. It warms my heart each time I see it.

So back to the grind. I am going to make more notes tonight and tackle the book some more tomorrow with some fresh ideas on how to improve it. My editor Jen, is a wonderfully knowledgeable gal and giving me sound advice but in the end, I have to make some tough decisions and stick to them. This book has been my heart for more than the past two years and I want to make it shine.

Happy Easter friends. May you all enjoy this springtime season.

 

Title Change/ Editing Process

 So after all the voting

on the title, I have to say, my first thought won out. I know, I know, I let you all weigh in on the title and for the longest time I left it as, OUT Of The Ashes. The thing is, I had this gut feeling it wasn’t right. And no, I won’t be using this as the book cover but it was fun to create anyway.

Before I went to the SFWC, (San Francisco Writers Conference), back in February, I researched the title and found there were multiple titles of OUT OF THE ASHES, due to the whole rising of the Phoenix idea. There have been both books and movies using this title over the past couple of decades. If I too used this then my book wouldn’t stand out at all. That’s why when I pitched the book to agents and others, I used my original title of AFTER THE FIRE.

Since you must know by now that the pitch went well and I found both the editor I wanted and agent as well, I am now in the stressful but exciting period of waiting to hear back from my editor!

The worst part of letting someone read your book is wondering if you are any good! Will someone who doesn’t know you well, hasn’t loved you your whole life, think your work of 2 years is worth a damn? It’s what Brene Brown would call, “Daring Greatly!” I put myself out there and hoped for the best. I entered the great arena and most vulnerably handed over my precious work to be critiqued. I’m either brave or out of my freakin’ mind.

Either way, I have never felt more alive! I have been writing more this past month than I have in quite awhile. I not only have been coming up with alternate scene ideas for my book for the rewrite, but I also have started to create a new blog, (to be revealed very soon), and have been doing researching for my new book. It’s like I can’t stop!

So I should hear something this weekend from my editor Jen, who I think is a pretty amazing person. She has been so supportive with her ideas, and very patient with all my questions, answering each one in detail. I must admit, I’m pretty anxious.

I have been terrible in blogging these past months in a timely fashion, which I understand is NOT conducive to a successful following, but I am going to change that now that the book’s completion is near. I DID finish the first draft in full and edited it to the best of my ability before I submitted it to the editor. However, that’s what I’m paying her for. She’s making suggestions for it to be better.

The process of getting it to an agent follows once the manuscript is spotless. I will attempt to post once a week from this point forward. I have a goal to submit it to the agent by June. Fingers crossed!

I am hoping this finds each and every one of you happily anticipating this Spring of 2018. It’s starting out quite blustery, but I feel it’s going to be a marvelous year. Beauty is all around us and I am constantly reminded of how blessed I am to live in California when I am surrounded with it’s splendor.

Count your blessings and thanks for reading.

 

Patti Diener’s Book /Making Progress

  The SFWC2018

(which translates to; San Francisco Writers Conference 2018), was so worth my time and money! The trip was a huge success in education, making new friends, and connections for both my heart and my book. What a whirlwind of events!

Thursday, upon checking into the Intercontinental Mark Hopkins Hotel, I felt as if I’d come back to see an old friend. The first experience I had there set me on my course for finding the people I needed to guide me on my author journey. This year I knew better of what to expect and how better to navigate the conference, thus making better use of my time. I was so excited!

If you’ve ever been to any sort of multi-day conference, you know when you arrive you are full of excitement and energy. By day two, you are settling into the conference mode and mingling, class hopping, and filling your brain with as much information as possible. Upon day three, classes are harder to concentrate on and the cocktail hour comes earlier and lasts longer than the previous two days! My husband says, “the mind can only absorb what the ass can endure,” and I am here to tell you, that is very true! All that being said, I was still very happy to be there by morning 4 and Agent Speed Dating!

 Grace Cathedral

is an inspiring and beautiful church in San Francisco, just a block from the hotel, and I spent the first two days looking at it through my hotel window. By Saturday morning, I was feeling a little overwhelmed and thought maybe the fresh air would do me good. I took a walk. The unusually warm breeze for February blew through my hair as I walked up California Street to a small park just across from the church and the Huntington Hotel. People were running in shorts and t-shirts and I thought, wow! How blessed am I to be in the city on such a gorgeous day!

After walking around I pulled the door open to the majestic Grace Cathedral and entered the silent basilica. I sat in the back pew just taking in the feeling of peace and gratitude. I realized I was there for a purpose that hadn’t hit me until I sat down. I needed guidance. I hadn’t stepped into a church for awhile, and I’m not even Catholic, but God and I go way back so I figured he wouldn’t mind much of my denomination. I prayed.

Whatever my purpose was at this conference, I knew I had my plans, but thought if God could just guide me to the people I needed to have in my life it would be better than me trying to figure this out on my own. When I left the church, I felt a sense of relaxation about the entire weekend. Whatever would be, would be. I was just happy for the experience.

I went to the SFWC2018 with a purpose. I told myself, I was going to find an agent that I could work with to help me publish my book! What I left with was far more important. I met and connected with new writers from around the world, found old friends, and serendipitously met an editor I am going to work with, just on an elevator ride from the lobby to the 10th floor! Last minute, I also decided to pay extra to meet for a 15 minute conversation with and agent of my choice. She and I had good chemistry, and she gave me sound advice. She also was NOT the person I believed I would try to connect with originally. She ended up being the person I was meant to connect with.

By Sunday morning, when I went in to pitch my book at the Agent Speed Dating, I was ready! When I found this same agent again, she smiled at me, said, “You don’t have to pitch me, I am already interested in the book,” and she gave me her card! Provided that the editor and I polish my manuscript, she said I could just send her the whole thing. I’d say that is a pretty darn good start!

 Driving home

I felt accomplished because I did what I set out to do and more! My heart was full from the new friends I met and old ones I reconnected with, and moving forward with my book I also realized the original title I had for it, After the Fire, is what I’m purposing to use. It sat better than the title, Out of the Ashes, with every person I spoke to at conference. First gut instincts are usually best.

I will keep you all posted on my progress and know we are one step closer to getting this baby into book form! I hope to have a copy into each of your hands soon. It’s a process. It’s not something you can rush if you want it done right, but I am feeling like the train is still moving forward.

Love to one and all!

Book Blogging From #SFWC18

  Sunset in San Francisco

is remarkable when there are clear skies, warm temperatures, and you are drinking a glass of wine at the Top of The Mark! This is what they are all out there talking about when they say, “be in the moment.”

I am a nearly 50 year old woman, with an empty nest, a husband at home I love, and a dream I’ve had since I was in the 5th grade. I am a writer. With or without an agent, with or without a published book, I am still a writer, and I still dream to live a comfortable life as a writer….and live happily ever after.

From the time I read my first novel without my teacher selecting it for me, I knew I was going to write. I can thank V.C. Andrews for Flowers in the Attic, in planting that seed. I chose that book from a shelf of many when my dad said to go select a book and read it in his office until it was time to go home, when I was 11 years old.

I had to pass time at my father’s deli and he had a paperback book shelf. I went and grabbed the book for it’s cover. As a librarian, I know book covers sell books! Maybe I should have gone into graphic or book jacket design, but anyway it sold me at 11 years old. I only looked inside the book because the cover was amazingly haunting and engaging! The story proved to be just the same.

Anyway, here I am more than 3 decades later, and I still have the same dream. I am in San Francisco, California, gearing up to pitch agents on Sunday about the book I’ve written as a genre/ romance fiction about the Valley Fire in Lake County, California.

Funny note: Tonight I was at the networking party and milling around. I bought a glass of wine, bought a few books, (after all, it’s not hording if it’s books), and basically killing time until I collapsed in my room for the night. When who do I see as I’m about to leave, but the agent I pitched my book to a year ago at the Redwood Writers Conference, Laurie McLean! She loved the idea of my book then but I only had a 1/2 written manuscript and she only looks at completed manuscripts so I had to wait until it was done. Well, I decided to talk to her briefly. Not an easy task! She is the director of this conference and very much in demand. So I see she acknowledges me, laughs and shakes my hand, almost like she remembers me but I’m sure she couldn’t remember why. Then another presenter from the conference approaches her and it’s all over. My brief connection is lost.

Not overly dismayed, I politely retreated from the conversation and made my trek upstairs a flight to the elevator that would take me 8 more floors to my room. I was tired anyway. But who do you suppose was running to the elevator to join us but Laurie McLean! This time I decided it was a moot point to so late in the evening discuss work. We simply joked at how damn tired we all were. She left at the 5th floor and I smiled on the way to the 8th, realizing it was very early in this weekend to obsess about missed opportunities. I will have plenty before I leave. It’s only Thursday night.

  SFWC 2018

has started out with a bang. I reconnected with a friend from two years back. She is the one lady that talked me off a cliff last time I was at the SFWC pitching agents and nearly hyperventilated! Good times! I also met new friends from New Zealand, and Morgan Hill, California. Writers Conferences are a great place to collaborate with fellow writers, and I am so grateful to find my people. The next three days should prove to be very interesting!

Stay tuned to information on how this all pans out. As many of you already following know, I’m here to try and find an agent that fits well with me and my book.

Wishing you all love, light, and joy! From San Francisco,….. sleep well y’all!

*All pictures taken by me, Patti Diener.