If you are interested in blogging or want to promote your book, please contactE. B. Davisat firstname.lastname@example.org.
Check out our February author interviews: 2/7-debut author Keenan Powell (Alaskan lawyer), 2/14-Leslie Wheeler (Rattlesnake Hill), 2/21-bestselling author Krista Davis, who unveils a new series, 2/28-Diane Vallere answers my questions about Pajama Frame. Please join us in welcoming these authors to WWK.
Our February Saturday Guest Blogger Schedule: 2/3-Saralyn Richard, 2/10-Kathryn Lane. WWK's Margaret H. Hamilton will blog on 2/17, and Kait Carson on 2/24.
Congratulations to our writers for the following publications:
Shari Randall's"Pets" will be included in Chesapeake Crimes: Fur, Feathers, and Felonies anthology, which will be published in 2018. In the same anthology "Rasputin," KM Rockwood'sshort story, will also bepublished. Her short story "Goldie" will be published in the Busted anthology, which will be released by Level Best Books on April 25th.
In addition, our prolific KM has had the following shorts published as well: "Making Tracks" in Passport to Murder, Bouchercon anthology, October 2017 and "Turkey Underfoot," appears in the anthology The Killer Wore Cranberry: a Fifth Course of Chaos.
My husband and I started preparing to move
from our Virginia home of thirty years, the house where we raised our children,
and from the community in which we had friends, in January 2016. Eight years
before, we’d bought a vacation home on Hatteras Island (HI), NC. In Northern
Virginia, we increasingly felt like strangers. Leaving HI was becoming harder
and harder. It’s where we felt we belonged.
Our son and daughter were grown, in their
late twenties, and embarking on their chosen careers. The first four months, we
spent packing and shutting down our thirty-year-old construction business.
Decisions of what to take with us, give to our children, discard, or put into
storage were arduous. In the meantime, I tried to write, but the immediate
needs of our move prevented me from putting words to the page.
Our vacation home didn’t have enough space
for our belongings (including our coats, clothing, tax records, Christmas
decorations, etc.). Since it had been built as a rental with small closets and
no coat closet, we needed to build an addition to accommodate our stuff. That’s
what we did for a living but couldn’t build it while living in Virginia. We
could have hired someone else to build it, but it would have cost three times as
much and (yes, we’re up on our skillset) it wouldn’t have been built as well.
By May, we were moved into our HI house, had
our Virginia home on the market, and completed our building plans. We submitted
them to the county, which were approved, hired a helper for my husband, and
started building in June. For income and to get to know our community, we
serviced pools and spas for vacation rentals (the big tourist industry here)
three times per week. The other four days of the week, we built our addition. By
July, our Virginia house sold—our bridge burnt—but we had no second guesses. I
had the opportunity to submit to an anthology, but not only was the theme one
in which I had no experience, I also had no time to write.
The building went agonizingly slow, but by
October, when the rental season and our jobs dwindled, I saw light at the end
of the tunnel—a cliché, but one that especially fit on HI. Environmental colors
here are more brilliant than any place I’ve ever lived. Shoals (underwater sand
bars/dunes) reflect light, which surround the island from all sides. Sunrises
and sunsets are spectacular. I’ve tried to capture the colors with a digital
camera and my iPhone, but I’m always disappointed. The colors aren’t true. I
take a picture and view it in my camera while holding the camera against the
sky of the picture I just took. The camera doesn’t capture what I see.
That glimmer of getting through this
transition enabled me to write a holiday short story for WWK. Just before
Christmas 2016, we obtained our occupancy permit and moved our stuff from
storage into the addition. Since the temperatures had dropped, I was glad to have
my coats and sweaters back. Part of the addition was a new office—for my
writing. Our physical transition had finally ended, even if it had taken a full
year. We still have a lot to learn about the island and living here, but I also
feel it will contribute to my writing. My time is once again my own.
I’m still frustrated because I can’t capture
those colors, but I’m also comforted because that digital contraption can’t do
what I can do. No device can replace a human, and there is no substitute for
the human experience. It’s divine.