What I Did During the Nor'Easter

Yesterday, while New Jersey was being hammered by a nor'easter, I got up early and drove north on the Parkway to Woodbridge to attend the Liberty States Fiction Writers conference. Once there, I chatted with old friends and some new ones. I listened to Sarah Wendell insist that authors should be putting up free digital content on their website. I listened to F. Paul Wilson talk about the writing life.

I also had appointments with two editors and one agent. I was trying to sell a contemporary romance which doesn't fit in with my current publishers' lines. I was also trying to find a home for my two fantasy novellas which were previously published by New Concepts Publishing. The rights of those two novellas have been returned to me.

I am not a neophyte when it comes to pitching a book. I have done it many times--though I am always nervous about it. Invariably, no matter how much I practice, my brain will disconnect at some point and fail to mention a critical plot point. When I suddenly realize an important piece of plot is missing, I will stumble over my words.

Fortunately, the majority of editors and agents are not fire-breathing dragons. (There may be a few out there, but I haven't met them yet.) I was not singed despite my inept pitches. I will be sending off my manuscripts once I read through them again and make sure I have all my commas in place.

Convincing someone else that I've written a really good book takes more than a ten minute interview. They have to read the book, too. :^)

It's All in the Details

Hubby and I went to the beach on Sunday. It was mild for February even though the sand had plenty of snow on it as did the boardwalk. We watched one woman hand breadcrumbs to her children so they could feed the seagulls. The birds squabbled with each other over every piece. Of course, people really should not feed them, but it was interesting to watch the birds--up close. They weren't afraid of us. I think they figured we might be giving them a handout, too. They watched us rather expectantly.

Even if I didn't have a camera in my hand, I'm sure I could recall many of the details if I needed to use a similar scene in one of my books. Since I grew up at the shore, it's easy for me to create an accurate picture. I know the vocabulary of the beach, the color of the sand, the things that drift in on the tide, the smell of the ocean, the sound of the waves, and the cry of the gulls. Then there's that peaceful feeling that settles on everyone when they stare out at the vast expanse of water.

The beach has a special ambiance all its own, but no two days are alike at the beach. There's the beach in the fog (which is really awesome), on a windy day, and on a sweltering day in July. Same scene--different atmosphere, which is great for mirroring the mood in the story. It's all in the details.

Blogging at Backseat Nightmares

Check out the blog at Backseat Nightmares today. See what I have to say about the Chinese zodiac and me at http://romanceinthebackseat.com/paranormal/blog/2010/02/stubborn-ox-by-penelope-marzec.html.

Which animal in the Chinese zodiac are you?

You can find out at:

http://www.chiff.com/home_life/holiday/chinese-zodiac.htm.

Book Video for The Fiend of White Buck Hall

I spent the past few days putting together a book video for The Fiend of White Buck Hall. I bought several stock photos from iStockphoto, but as usual I had several photos of my own to use. The mansion in the video is Batso. The park scenes are from Thompson Park.

In fact, the initial idea for The Fiend of White Buck Hall came from a walk in the park one evening at dusk. We heard and saw an owl in a tree high above us. Then Daughter #2 swore she heard a deer stamping the ground behind us.

I did not see a deer, but it was getting a bit creepy. So we hurried out of there as quickly as we could. The park ranger was waiting by our car. :^)

You can find the book at http://www.newconceptspublishing.com. Currently, it is only available in digital form.

Just Released!

They say Thomas Hillyer, a wizard, is in league with the Devil and that the white buck roaming his estate hypnotizes people and steals their souls. Molly is a fugitive, wanted for a crime she did not commit. Seeing a want ad for a secretary in a sleepy town, she sets off for White Buck Hall but ignores the warning about the albino stag who lurks in the woods. When she meets him on the forest path, her life is forever changed.

You can read the first chapter at:

http://www.newconceptspublishing.com/penelopemarzecbooks.html

Latest Interview

If you want to know more about me, it's easy. Just go to:

http://www.fallenangelreviews.com/Interviews/2010/January-JoAnn-PenelopeMarzec.htm.

There's a brand new interview with all sorts of fascinating details about my life. :^)

Enjoy!

Another One

Yesterday's weather was lovely. Hubby and I decided to visit a bigger, more elaborate labyrinth. This one is on the grounds of the Upper Room Spiritual Center. Below you can see hubby walking around.



There's a small plaque that explains a bit about labyrinths.



I am totally hooked on labyrinths now and want to visit as many as I can.

Labyrinths

The temperature was around fifty degrees outside today, which was quite nice for the middle of January and the perfect day for a walk.

I had happened to see a small article in Woman's World magazine about labyrinths. The article claimed that walking in a labyrinth endows you with peace and focus. It can also assist you in thinking more creatively and give you powerful insights--great stuff for a writer! And if you're stressed, it's supposed to alleviate that problem, too. I thought this would be a just the thing for hubby and I to experience. All I had to do was find one with the labyrinth locator at: http://www.labyrinthsociety.com.

It turned out that there was a labyrinth nearby. Unfortunately, a tree had fallen on part of the maze. But hubby and I dutifully followed the pathways as much as we could. Hubby was concerned whether we were doing it right.

We finished it quickly and I really did not feel any more focused or more peaceful. But perhaps I need to walk in another labyrinth--a bigger one.

I looked up more information on labyrinths at http://www.lessons4living.com/labyrinth.htm so that next time I'll have the proper attitude when we walk along the winding paths. We'll do it right!

Great Review for The Company You Keep!

The Company You Keep received Four Coffee Cups from Cherokee, a reviewer for Coffee Time Romance. She said, "The Company You Keep is a delightful story. I enjoyed the simmering chemistry that slowly continued to brew between Jennifer and Nathan. The suspense spills along the way, and keeps the reader engaged and on the edge-of-the-seat. With each page, I was taken deeper and deeper into this driven read. Penelope Marzec builds an in-depth story, and driven players that captivate. I found the foundation of the storyline wonderfully done. This story not only kept this reader guessing until the conclusion, but also left a wonderful sensation in the soul after this unique read."

You can read the entire review at http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/thecompanyyoukeep.html

The book is available at Crescent Moon Press. Check it out!

Excerpt from HEAVEN'S BLUE

Published by Awe-Struck Publishing
ISBN-10: 1587494469
ISBN-13: 978-1587494468

Samantha's tour of the house turned out to be rather brief. David hadn't realized how small the cottage really was. A kitchen, a pantry/utility room, a living room, one bedroom, one bathroom, and a screened-in porch. No basement, no attic, no den.

A cooling breath of air fanned David's face as they stepped back out onto the porch, the best feature of the tiny house. Four wicker chairs and a low table formed a cozy seating arrangement.

Samantha sank down onto one of the chairs and David did the same. James crawled into his lap.

"So how am I supposed to catch the mosquitoes?" he asked.

"You stand outside and naturally, some mosquitoes land on you."

She gave him a tremulous smile and he blinked to prevent himself from being mesmerized.

"I have a straw-type device and you sort of suck up the mosquito--"

"What if I swallow it?" David interrupted.

"It won't hurt you."

He watched her long, thin fingers smooth out her gauzy skirt. Everything about her seemed so soft and feminine that he almost felt he could relax. He wrapped his arms more closely about James. No. He couldn't let down his guard. Not with her. Not with anyone.

He glanced outside at the endless miles of salt hay and at the blue water beyond that. It would be safe enough, he guessed. "Anyhow, then you put the live mosquito--because, of course, it must be live to test the pesticide--into a small cardboard trap--with a screen on it, so it can't get out. I'll do all the rest. It isn't difficult."

"So I'm a sitting duck. I stand outside, get eaten alive by bugs, maybe catch a few--"

"You have to catch a lot," she broke in. "This part of the study is very important. I have been breeding mosquitoes in the lab and testing the pesticide on them, but I need a control group, a totally unrelated batch of mosquitoes."

"Can't you just take your vacuum cleaner outside and draw in a million of them?"

Her archaic method sounded ridiculous to David.

"You would hurt them!" She frowned.

"Heaven forbid," he stated in a mocking tone.

Her eyes sparked flint at him. He leaned back in the chair, feeling the heat from her searing gaze. James sighed as his eyes began to close.

"It's extremely important research," she reminded him.

David didn't doubt that the earnestness in her face could convince Congress to appropriate trillions of dollars in funding for her cause. Then he reminded himself that right now, he and James needed a safe haven, and this could be an ideal situation.

"Okay, okay." He tried to sound apologetic. "There are nasty viruses and we must do something about it. So when do I start my human pincushion routine?"

"Tomorrow. Today is Sunday..." Her voice trailed off and she glanced into the distance.

Simply the thought of anything religious made him defensive and he stiffened. He had seen nothing but hypocrisy in his dealings with supposed "Christians".

"It doesn't matter to me what day this is," he said. "I don't believe there is a God."

She whipped her head around and stared at him with such surprise in her expression that he had an urge to touch the top of his head to make sure he hadn't sprouted horns.

"Not at all?"

With a voice that sounded hard and bitter, even to his own ears, he gave her his version of the world. "Everything that happens here on this earth is random. Good people meet up with terrible tragedies and very evil people do remarkably well during their lifetimes. Why would a god, who supposedly loved his creations, treat them so cruelly? Why would he make them suffer? The good guys don't win. Honesty is not the best policy. The clever liar will always have a better life."

He didn't add that women who are monsters get custody of their children. He couldn't say it because he knew he was guilty of not spending enough time with his own son. He should have known, but he had been too busy.

"I can understand how you might feel that way."

Her voice had such a tender quality to it that for a fleeting second he actually believed her and thought she might be capable of understanding his predicament. Then his better judgment returned and he glared at her, fully expecting her to clobber him with sermon number one, a compassionate plea aimed at getting him to come back to the fold.

However, she surprised him by not saying another word. The silence hung between them like the heavy atmosphere on the muggy afternoon. She turned her head to stare off into the distant, hazy horizon. He hesitated. She seemed so vulnerable for a moment. He noticed her hands tremble slightly and she bit her lip.

He shook himself mentally. She was probably feeling tainted by sitting in close proximity with a heathen. She might be regretting the fact that she had hired him.

He glanced down at James. His son had fallen fast asleep in his arms.

"I guess I better show you to your room," Samantha whispered.

Though he tried not to move suddenly, the moment he got out of the chair, James woke up again.

"Put me down, Daddy!" James insisted.

David sighed. From this point on, he knew James would be completely wired and impossible to deal with unless he got a nap.

Samantha led them across the yard to the lab building, a low concrete structure. She ushered them into a small hallway and then unlocked the door on the left. When she swung it open, David sucked in his breath as an overwhelming sensation hit him. The small, austere room reminded him of a cell--maybe it was the color of the walls, a sickly, institutional green, or maybe it was the cheap metal furniture. Or maybe it was a premonition. He struggled to recover his regular breathing rate and force down his fear.

Samantha crossed over to the small window and opened it. "I'm sorry it's so stuffy in here. I have a fan in the lab you can use."

Meanwhile, of course, James bounced into the room and opened the wardrobe along with every drawer. He lifted a black book out of one.

"What's this?"

"A Bible." Samantha answered.

James opened it. "There aren't any pictures."

"No. But there are lots of stories."

James frowned at the dull-looking book and dropped it back into the drawer. "Bunkbeds!" he squealed as he clambered up the ladder. "Can I sleep on the top?"

"Sure," David replied hoarsely.

"Look, I can touch the ceiling." James reached up with just his index finger.

"You're taller than your father, now." Samantha smiled.

"I am!" James looked ready to burst with delight.

David felt a painful squeeze around his heart at the unbridled joy in his son's face.

When Samantha showed them the tiny bathroom, James grabbed the faucet and turned it on full force. Water splashed out over the sides of the small bowl. "James! Stop it!" David roared. He slapped at James' hand and switched the faucet off. James' tiny shoulders shook and his face crumpled. David clamped his jaw together. He knew that James' tears would be next. Would Samantha decide that she had made a mistake in bringing him and his son here? However, Samantha simply turned to a small closet and got out a bucket and a sponge.

"This is Mr. Spongy, James, he can wipe up any mess." "Hello, James." Samantha, using a silly voice, folded the sponge in her hand and made it open and close like a mouth. One tear rolled down James' cheek, but he immediately started to smile. "Hi Mr. Spongy."

"I am so thirsty, James, can you help me drink up this water?" Samantha handed the sponge to James who eagerly tried to make it talk, too. Then David watched in amazement as she patiently showed James how to wipe up the mess.

Once that was finished, Samantha left them to settle into their new surroundings. James went back to the drawer with the Bible. He took it up to the top bunk with him and started turning the pages.

"The big lion ran after the little boy to eat him up." James made up a story for himself.

David went to the window and looked out over the desolate marshland. He could see nothing but miles and miles of short grass interspersed with narrow waterways stretching to the blue sea beyond. Would he be safer in a forest, or at the top of a mountain? He shrugged. For two weeks, this would probably be okay.

When he turned back to check on his son, he found the child fast asleep with the Bible beside him. David eased the book away and put it back into the drawer. Just the sight of the book irritated him. Based on it, he was destined to a fiery eternity. Well, better that than watch his young son suffer. He stood beside the bunk bed and listened to the child's even, light breathing. Suddenly, he felt wearier than he had in weeks.

To read more about the book go to Awe-Struck Publishing.

Contest Winner!

Bernadine is the winner of a print copy of Sea Of Hope! She commented on the excerpt from that book which I posted on this blog. Anyone who commented was automatically entered into the contest.

Now I have to decide which book will be the prize in my next contest. Which book would you like to win?

Karma

We had a huge snowstorm on Saturday night. It looked lovely as it fell and coated the trees and bushes. However, by Sunday morning we had about twenty inches of snow on the ground--and the snow had drifted so that in some spots it was much higher.

We used shovels and brooms around the cars. Hubby got out his gasoline powered snowblower, but it was not working properly. We have a small electric snowblower, too. I plugged that in but we had to shave off layers of snow with it as we went along--and we did not have enough extension cords to get the snowblower to the sidewalk.

Then a truck plow went by and pushed up a mound of snow nearly four feet high at the end of our driveway. The situation appeared rather hopeless. Each shovelful of snow was as effective as using a thimble to empty out the ocean.

Fortunately, our neighbor, George, who has a massive snowblower came to the rescue.

My father's neighbors shoveled him out, which was a good thing because we did not get to Dad's house until yesterday. Daughter #2's godparents were surprised when a young couple came along to dig them out. The couple would not accept any money for the job. They told her it was karma. Daughter #2's godmother had no idea what they were talking about so she asked me what that meant. I told her it means that the good you do comes back to you. While that's a rather simplistic definition, I figured it was good enough for a eighty year old.

To all the wonderful people who helped dig out their neighbors after the snowstorm I offer my thanks. God bless you. :^)

Frito Pie

I went to the New Jersey Romance Writers' Christmas party today and I brought along my Frito Pie. I never make this recipe at home because it is loaded with sodium. However, it is easy to make and very tasty--the perfect dish for a party because at a holiday gathering nobody is being mindful of their diet anyway. :^)

I originally clipped the recipe from an issue of Woman's World magazine, but I adapted it slightly by making it nearly twice the size.

Enjoy!

FRITO PIE

2 small (9 1/4 ounce) bags of Frito Corn Chips
2 large (27 ounce) cans of kidney beans, rinsed and drained
2 large (25 ounce) cans of Hormel, No Beans, Chili
4 tablespoons dried minced onion
2 cups of shredded extra sharp Cheddar cheese

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Spread 1 bag of corn chips on the bottom of a 9 x 13 pan. Lightly, crush the corn chips. In a large bowl, combine the chili, beans, and onion. Spread that mixture over the corn chips. Sprinkle with the shredded cheese.

Top with the remaining bag of corn chips--except for a few which you are allowed to eat because you are burning calories putting this wonderful food together.

Bake until hot and bubbly--about 30 minutes.

Serves a lot of people!

Watching Cataract Surgery

I watched a miracle occur. My father had a cataract removed and I was allowed to view the procedure. My father's left eye had 20/100 vision. With the cataract gone and the new lens implanted, he now has 20/30 vision in that eye.

I've been nearsighted since I was eleven years old--so I think it is really quite amazing that my father now has such terrific vision without glasses.

At first, the idea of viewing the procedure made me a bit queasy. However, the nurse reassured me that I wouldn't see any blood.

I thought about it for a minute. The knowledge about what happens during cataract surgery might be useful in a novel at some point. I enjoy amassing all kinds of extraneous knowledge just because I might need it someday. You can never tell where my muse will lead me.

Though I had already heard the doctor explain the procedure to my father, there's a big difference between hearing about something and actually seeing it occur.

I decided to be brave and watch. The ophthalmologist had a small observation room for family members. I was led in by the nurse and seated. From a glass window I could see into the room where the surgery took place. I could barely see doctor's back due to some large machines. My father lay covered in blue cloth on a gurney. The doctor's assistant waved to me. He was the one who handed the doctor the necessary tools.

What I could see very well was a monitor with the giant image of my father's eye--due to the lighting it appeared as a large reddish iris surrounded by white. Everything happened just as the doctor said it would. It did not take long.

Afterward, Dad was fine. He felt no pain and found the most annoying result of the surgery to be the eye drops. He had a tough time learning to plop the drops in by himself, but he was insistent on accomplishing the task without help. :^)

I went home and discovered that you can view the entire procedure on YouTube as well.

Some of my friends were amazed that I watched my father's cataract surgery. I guess they didn't think I had it in me. After all, I'm usually the one who hides her eyes during the scary parts of a movie.

But obviously, the doctor had confidence in the procedure. Because it was offered, I felt it must be a sure thing and many people I know who had undergone the procedure proclaimed it to be a piece of cake.

But I still think it's a miracle. Wouldn't it be wonderful if all our ills were so easy to fix?

How I Wrote Ten Books

The Fiend of White Buck Hall will be published book #10 for me. After getting the contract last week, I took a moment to wonder how I have managed to write ten books. There are writers who produce a lot more and I'm slow in comparison to them, but I really don't think they sleep. :^)

Like the majority of women with families, I am forever juggling the various tasks of living--tossing up one ball and catching another before it falls. Yes, my children are grown, but for those of you who have small children and think life is difficult--just wait. It never gets any easier.

Hubby is retired, but I still have a real part time job that gets me up and out of the house for several hours five days a week, but when I return I have to throw a load of laundry into the washing machine and transfer another load into the dryer.

On my lucky days, I don't have to go on an errand, but more often than not, I do. I have to help out my Dad, or shop for more food, or buy parts for a broken appliance. Once I'm back at the house, I put some form of protein in a pan to brown on the stove.

I turn on the computer, check my email, and fix one paragraph of my manuscript before I check on that browning protein and add some sauce to it.

I talk to Dad on the phone while I'm emptying the dishwasher. I finish talking to Dad and put away the clean dishes before I go back to the manuscript at the computer, but by now my powers of concentration are completely scattered, so I check my email again instead of fixing the manuscript.

I have my computer programmed to announce the hour every fifteen minutes, so I know I have to complete the rest of our supper. I put the computer to sleep, rip open a bag of frozen vegetables and set the table.

Daughters #1 and #3 arrive home from work--late as usual. I ask one of them to locate their father tell him it's time to eat. Lately, he's been busy redoing an upstairs room so he's easy to find.

Daughter #1 cleans up after supper, but now it's time for me to take the dried clothing, fold it, and put it away.

Meanwhile, Daughter #3 is cleaning the bathroom.

Hubby has to check his email on the computer which he and I share. I let him go ahead because after all, I still have plenty to do. I can exercise, sweep, vacuum, or dust. I can organize the photos in the album. (Ha!) Sometimes I have to go out during the evening, but not often.

I never watch television, except for the news. If I'm really exhausted, I will make a cup of tea and read a book. If I have a bit of energy left, I might spend a half hour on the elliptical machine AND read a book.

But most evenings, I will write--even if it's only for an hour. Sometimes, it's more than an hour. That's how I finished ten books. Slowly, but methodically.

If I can do it, anyone can. You just have to plod ahead. Of course, it helps if you have a great story to tell and the characters are annoying you constantly to finish their tale. So you absolutely must help them out. :^)

New Contract!

On Monday I got a contract from New Concepts Publishing for The Fiend of White Buck Hall. It is always thrilling to get a contract, but Monday also happened to be my mother's birthday. So it was nice to have something very special happen that day.

Now I have to work on the art questionnaire for the cover of the book. One of the questions is about the celebrities that the characters resemble. I have a complete image of my characters in my head, but for an artist it is easier to have a visual reference. So I spent a lot of time online searching for just the right faces for my hero and heroine.

I decided that Paul Walker resembles my hero.

I think my heroine resembles Emma Roberts.

It will be fun to see what the cover artist does with my idea.

Resurrect An Old Word Today

One day as I was exercising at Curves, the manager was having problems with the new "Smart" machine. I chuckled and referred to the machine as being persnickety. Granted, I was using personification and giving the machine human attributes, but it surprised me that the manager had never heard that word. She had no clue what it meant. She thought I had made it up.

Hmmmm.

per⋅snick⋅et⋅y:
–adjective Informal.
1. overparticular; fussy.
2. snobbish or having the aloof attitude of a snob.
3. requiring painstaking care.
Also, pernickety.

Origin:
1885–90; orig. Scots, var. of pernickety
Related forms:
per⋅snick⋅et⋅i⋅ness, noun
Synonyms:
1. nitpicking, finicky.

Daughter #1 thought this was a hilarious state of affairs and promptly "borrowed" my word to use at her Toastmasters meeting as the word of the day.

There were lots of people at the Toastmasters meeting that had never heard of that word either.

Yipes!

English is a wonderful language. We have more words than any other language. Check out About English. I know we've stolen plenty of our words, but our language is richer for it. As a writer, I appreciate the variety.

Of course, new words are always coming into being. Language is a living thing. But I hate to see so many wonderful older words fall into disuse.

Please, find an old word and use it. Better yet, find an old word every week and make it part of your vocabulary. Send it out in your text messages. Use it on your Facebook page.

Don't let the old words die.

NJRW Put Your Heart in a Book Conference

Kathy Kulig and I sat next to each other at the Literacy Book Fair and Author Signing at the NJRW Put Your Heart in a Book Conference. Kathy told me all about the experience that sparked the idea for her book, Wild Jade!

The conference was wonderful--as always. The PAN Retreat had plenty of chocolate and wine. :^) I listened to Angela Knight's special presentation, Putting Spice in Your Love Scenes. I attended Kathryn Smith's talk about Sex, Language, and Historical Accuracy. Jennifer Crusie was excellent and so was Robin Perini. I took notes and wrote all over the handouts. Karen Rose was the Keynote Speaker and Allison Brennan spoke at lunch. There were lots of other speakers--including Kathy Kulig--and it was difficult to make a choice as to which workshop to attend.

Free books were available. Free pens, sticky notes, and chocolate were on the promotion table. NJRW gave everyone a flash drive!!!! (The perfect gift!)

I can't wait for next year. :^)

Blogging at Romance Junkies

I am now a contributor to the Romance Junkies Blog! You can see my post at:

http://www.romancejunkies.com/rjblog/?p=593

Check it out. You'll see my newest book cover, too. It's awesome. :^)

My Apple Cake

Everyone keeps asking for this recipe! So I decided to post it here. This is a terrific cake--rich and moist. Everyone loves it and it disappears quickly. :^)

First, peel and cut into medium chunks 4 large cooking apples (winesaps are great for this). Put the chunks into a bowl and mix them with 2 teaspoons of cinnamon and 5 tablespoons of sugar.

Next, in a large bowl mix and beat until smooth:
3 cups flour
2 1/2 cups sugar
3 teaspoons baking powder
1 cup of cooking oil (canola is good)
1/4 cup lemon juice
4 eggs, beaten
2 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

Using a large bundt pan, pour in one layer of batter, then a layer of apples. Add another layer of batter and finish with a layer of apples on the top.

Bake at 350 degrees for 1 3/4 hours or 105 minutes.

Enjoy!