Patti Diener – Page 4 – Patti Diener / Author

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 But I wouldn’t have the anxiety of the connections I originally made in the publishing industry months ago might now be long forgotten.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.

picture of Frustrated Writer from Google Images.

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.

*Photos from Google Images

Lake County Fires / How Are We Doing?

Smoke creates

a beautiful sunset. It also makes the moon glow red in the night, and Mars shine like a crimson space jewel. But there is nothing lovely about fires in California. I for one, am pretty much fed up with them. But it’s become the new norm.

What I’ve noticed for sure is our preparedness in Lake County has become quite perfected. From all emergency service departments, to volunteers, stores, and even everyday citizens, we all seem to know the drill now. We know how to get information, we utilize the Nixel alerts on our phones, we listen to local radio stations, and log into fire.ca.gov for the most up to date reports on conditions. Our social media accounts are always helping out with posts on shelters, where it’s safe to drive, or whether or not a friend has room for more at their home to take in evacuees. It’s a sad state of affairs when we’ve got the whole, how to evacuate with the most efficiency, down pat.

The Mendocino Complex is two fires that are being referenced as one. They are the River Fire and the Ranch Fire. The information line to call is (707)574-8261, but that information is also found on the fire.ca.gov website. At the time of this post, the River Fire has burned more than 41,000 acres and is at 50% contained. It’s destroyed 41 residents and 47 other structures, with still 9,200 being threatened. The Ranch Fire has burned more than 112,000 acres and gives the same stats on residents and other structures burned, because it’s all under the totals for the Mendocino Complex. We are all praying no other homes are lost.

A few days ago, I was looking to find a family to help. This is what I do when I get anxious and feel helpless during these fires. I started to lose my mind, called my husband crying and yelling about how sick and tired I am that every freaking year our fire season has something devastating happen, and how it’s earlier in the season every year. My nerves were toast, so to speak. When I collected myself and apologized to my man for becoming momentarily hysterical, I decided to channel my emotions into being productive.

My wonderful hairdresser, and often psychotherapist, Angie, had said a friend that has a family of four had lost everything. They have two beautiful children and they were in need of help to start over. I started to focus on them. These wonderful people who certainly didn’t ever expect this to happen, needed help. I asked for their sizes and ages of the children and put that into motion for what I could do to make a difference.

It’s hard, at least for me when I’m scared, to get out of my head with the crazy hamster wheel that’s going and going, to see what’s right in front of me. When I’m stressed I have trouble focusing unless I have a specific task. I made this family a priority and got my focus back. Although I don’t know them, I hope these special people know how very sorry I am for their loss and I pray they find the strength and fortitude to push forward and know that an entire community is behind them.

For those of you

who are fed up and so over it, with these fires, I hear you. What I’m here to tell you is you are STILL not alone in this. We are a good community with fantastic people who are here to support you. Hang in there. We feel your pain.

One last word on the book. I’m still waiting to hear from my editor about her final notes. She is extremely busy, as we’ve all been, but she said the beginning of the month so, I’d imagine I will hear any day now. Don’t worry, I will post about it as soon as I hear.

Take care my friends. Stay safe, be alert, and don’t be a hero. Leave that stuff to the professionals. Even when the danger is over, stay prepared. We’ve all learned that fire season in California can last a long time.

Peace and love to you all.

*Sunset picture by Patti Diener / Lake County Sign on Google Images

After the Fire / A Return to Cobb & Boggs

Mornings are quiet,

and as the sun was cresting over my yard I took a walk around my Lower Lake property, coffee in hand, enjoying the 75 degree temps that were already climbing by 6:30 am. It would reach 106 later and I would certainly not be out in it. By July 27th, I’ve already had my fill of triple digits. I prefer a nice 85-90 degrees thank you.

A promise of a cooler location, (not by much), was on my itinerary today. I went to meet my friend April, up on Cobb Mountain for coffee, doughnuts, and a walk on the recently re-opened Boggs Mountain Trails. I have to confess, although I’ve lived in Lake County, since I was 3 years old and only moved away once for a total of six months, I have NEVER walked through Boggs. Never even been there, to my recollection, until April drove me through there after the Valley Fire devastated much of it, and the trails were closed. I had to know what everyone was talking about missing. A local author, Kit DeCanti, has even written mystery books about Boggs, so I had to know what all the hype was about. Especially since my book AFTER THE FIRE, was prompted by the effects of the horrific fire.

This is the sign right as you arrive to the Cal Fire Station.

After our heads were properly caffeinated, and stomachs were filled with sugary goodness from Dirty Girl Doughnuts, (something you will read about in an upcoming post on my OTHER blog, romancetravelandfood.com ), we drove to the Cal Fire Station and the Boggs Mountain Trails. Some trails were still off limits. CLOSED, the signs said at the creek trail that was April’s favorite. We assumed because there were still too many dangerous trees that haven’t been addressed yet. Still, the morning air was rich with the scent of pine, damp earth, and it simply felt nourishing just to be there.

The sunlight filtered through the tall trees and a soft breeze caressed our skin, cooling us just enough to make the walk enjoyably comfortable. Even though there were a tremendous amount of fallen and burned trees, mother nature has this way of never giving up. There was evidence of hope everywhere. Green trees that survived were neighboring burned ones that had green foliage sprouting everywhere from their blackened trunks. Also, we saw what looked like newly planted trees along the utility roads, giving nature a boost at replenishing what was lost.

The thistle was even beautiful, with it’s pink color standing out against the browns and greens of the forest. I was starting to see what everyone has been so excited about. I also could imagine the way it once was, thick, full, and secluded from the busy world. Now I understand how those who frequently sought refuge there were so mournful at losing it. At least for awhile.

When April and I turned back to return to our responsibilities for the day, we spoke of how it might be changed, but it is still a wonderful place. It’s never going to be the same again, but a different beauty with a story of survival to pass on for generations to come. I think that makes it very special.

This was the view walking back to our cars. A great morning.

The land, like people, builds character over time. Our scars are part of our history. They are what make us who we are and who we are to become. I think the earth is no different. Surely, the story of this beloved place is going to live on much longer than any of us. As I drove back off the mountain today, I rolled the windows down, let the wind blow through my hair, and smiled at how very lucky we all are to just be. I feel very lucky to have such wonderful friends, ( thanks for today April ), and to live in such a marvelous place, Lake County.

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!

Trying to Write Positive

A writer writes.

When you don’t know what else to do about the world around you, you simply write. I don’t know if it changes anything really, but it seems to be the only thing that helps get from one moment to the next without feeling like the whole world is spinning out of control.

Song writers, poets, journalists, (if there are any true journalists left in the world), bloggers, screen play writers, and novelists, all write during times when there is just so much building inside of them that it had to go somewhere. That’s what prompted me to start writing, AFTER THE FIRE. I wanted to create something good from all the fear, anger, sadness, and confusion that the fires in Lake County had generated. It would seem I have an ample supply of material to glean from.

I yearn for a simpler time. Right now I worry that even as I am using technology to reach all of you in this blog, that our social media, our news sources, the internet itself, all have brought upon our society suggestive ideas and opportunists have used this negatively to target us in terrible ways.

It’s become a cyclone of terror out there. I keep waiting for it all to pass, yet it seems to be gaining strength. It drains me so much that I don’t even want to know anymore. I use to pride myself on keeping up on current events, but I just don’t even want to know.

I won’t get political here. I don’t think that would help. What I will say though is I am appalled at what some people will do to have their way. None of us ever gets everything we want, but that is no reason to treat your neighbor with disdain or hatred. My father always said, ‘you can’t be rational with an irrational person.’ Then I guess I’m to believe now that the whole damn world is becoming irrational. It is more apparent every day, and it makes me sad.

One of the characters in Dean Koontz novel, FEAR NOTHING, had said to ignore the great issues of your time, therefore improving your digestion. Ok, I’m paraphrasing since I cannot find the book to quote at the moment, but you get the gist of it. I’ve said this before I’m sure. So recently, I went to Hawaii with my family and tried to ignore all problems for awhile. It worked beautifully!

However, once we arrived home, the Pawnee Fire in Lake County hit and two of my dearest friends were out there, struggling with what I know first hand, to be Hell. Very fortunately, neither of them lost their homes, but sadly, some were not quite so lucky.

Today, I tried to continue the editing of my novel, and am nearly done, but was consumed with the spectacle of thoughts roaming in my own mind, and had to blog about it. Purge the thoughts through my keyboard and maybe I will be able to get back to what is going on in my character’s minds in the book.

So I must remember, that I can only help where I am. I am most certainly not going to be able to stop others from creating havoc in the world, but I will do my best to help locally and especially with my family. I’ll do my little part. I just hope the world isn’t teetering on the brink of something more catastrophic. I think we all could use a little more MR. ROGER’S NEIGHBORHOOD, right about now. Or maybe we should all just sit around and listen to THE BEATLES, because all you need is love.

*Photos by me, Patti Diener

Busy Life Equals Slow Editing

Milestones

in a person’s life seem more significant after they are actually over. When you are going through the moment, it’s sometimes hard to realize, “this is actually happening.”

Our youngest just graduated from Santa Rosa Junior College with honors, in the first step of her adult education. She is propelling towards the field of Radiology, and like everything else she’s set out to accomplish in her life, I’ve no doubt she will attain that goal as well.

While sitting

in the audience of the largest graduating class SRJC has ever had, I tried to be as present as I possibly could, but my mind kept wandering back to when she was a toddler and already very much independent. Here, at the 100 year anniversary of this wonderful northern California school, I know I wasn’t alone in feeling nostalgic about my child, who is now very much a grown up. Where, indeed, has the time gone?

We were so missing our other beautiful daughter, Fallon, who has moved to Oregon, and could not attend. There was a little ache inside of me wishing she could have been there, but my heart swells with pride at how brave she is to pursue her own dreams. Sometimes in the adult world, responsibilities can be great. At least earlier in the month we were fortunate to have her come for a short visit. Also we had so much family around to support our graduate, Emma, that the family was well represented. In that way, I was extremely pleased.

Back to back events, the following day was our town’s annual Memorial Day Parade. I was getting sick with a dumb cold and stressing to try and do all kinds of, “end of the school year,” activities earlier in that week, (such as book fair at my school), that I was exhausted. But a very important guy I know was the Grand Marshall in the Lower Lake Daze Parade.

Lower Lake Daze Parade 2018 — Lower Lake Daze Grand Marshall 2018

My husband, Charlie was selected to be the Grand Marshall so I couldn’t miss that. I took some nasal spray, two ibuprofen, and grabbed a tomato-beer at the parade and was golden… for about two hours. Then I went home and slept.

Since that day, I had to finish up the school year in my librarian position I hold at a public K-7 school. Evenings have been spent nursing my cold and very little editing has taken place on my book, I’m afraid. I’d gained so much progress earlier in the month but then life sort of slowed me down. Still, I wouldn’t trade it for any deadline. My family is pretty damn cool. I am so lucky.

Now I have time to breathe. Summer break is finally here and the editing is back in motion. I can look forward to editing my book, a trip to Hawaii, some me time traveling maybe nearby for more inspirational writing, and the new blog coming too. Life is really good!

HOLY COW I’M 50! Patti Diener Looking Back

Time flies,

that is what they said and they, (the proverbial they being mostly my father but everyone older than me too), were correct. I cannot even believe today I turned 50 years old. I really don’t know where all the time went. But it’s just a number.

I spent time with a dear friend the other night over cocktails and the only thing I could say about turning 50 was that I really, with all my heart, feel like the second half of my life is going to be the best. Not that all the milestones getting here weren’t wonderful. I cannot express my gratitude for being blessed with my beautiful children, or for having such a great husband and fantastically supportive family. But there is something to be said for being a “woman of a certain age.” Frankly, I love it!

Being an empty nester took some getting used to but that too is quite lovely. When my man is out doing his thing and I don’t have anyone to cook for, I DON’T. That being said, I still eat well. I love food and not garbage food. I can eat my foo-foo food that Hubby doesn’t usually eat, (kale, quinoa salad not his thing). Then of course there is the time to write without guilt and that is also a pleasure.

The above pic was Saturday when I was home alone and in the middle of a writing marathon and didn’t want to cook. Win-win, as far as I could tell. Then the writing continued.

Looking back on my life thus far, I can say I am more myself now than I ever was before. This is because I am finally accepting myself for exactly who I am. I don’t feel any need to impress, put up a front, or put on airs. I’m just me and I am enough. Believe me, that is saying a lot. I suppose plenty of women have gone through that and hopefully most of us get over it. But I really feel good about who I am now and that in itself is a feat.

The things that I was hung up on before are gone, freeing me to be more creative and I found I’m pretty damn good company. I don’t have to be entertained in any way by anyone. Although I love spending time with my family and friends, I can be alone and not feel lonely. If I’m perfectly honest with myself, I have always been that way. I just didn’t accept it.

Growing up, I fell in love with books, reading and writing. I’d lock myself up in my room and read for hours or write stories or poetry. Any writer will tell you that is a solitary lifestyle and if you let others into that world, they must be very special. I have many wonderful people that I love and love me, but they are the ones that understand my need to be alone to write. They support my crazy desire to create and dream. They understand when I go incommunicado for lengthy times and don’t hold it against me. I’m pretty blessed.

So I’m on the brink of publishing my first novel and have a second one in the wake. I am starting my third blog that will be out, (I hope) by next month called, romancetravelandfood.com but it hasn’t launched yet so be on the look out. I’ve already set up the website, purchased my URL and security needed to run it. I also created a new email address for it so between all that and working full time, I’m one busy gal… but I’m LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT!

Life is a journey

and I’m looking forward to more traveling, more time with my husband, and more quality time with my family. Although as I say, I’ve come late to the party in my writing career as a published author, I’m gonna tackle that too, and write as many books as I can get in before my time is up. Even though there are more books out there than I will ever have time to read, and I know I won’t be able to write every single story idea I come up with in the time I have either, I’m still going to enjoy trying every single day.

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

A Little About Me / Patti Diener

When I was growing up

I rarely wore shoes. We only had four to six television channels and I seldom watched that box anyway. I would always rather have been outside in Lower Lake, riding my bike, walking the creek, or playing with my dog, Blue. But the other thing I loved to do with the neighborhood kids was play “library.”

As the librarian, I would take all the books we kids could gather up from each of our collections and make library cards for them. We would share them with a set amount of time… like checking out a book. When that date rolled around, we had to get back together with our books and trade. I would then re-date them for a return date. Little did I know I would end up being a librarian for real in my adult life.

Flash forward, I have read my fair share of books over my almost 50 years of life, (that is still hard for me to admit). I began my love of books early on and at the age of 10 I wrote my first novel. Ok… I didn’t finish it. I started it in the 5th grade and ended my writing of this unfinished book by the 7th grade, but in my defense, I DID gather information from A.A. and wrote by hand over one hundred pages on binder paper, all about a teenage alcoholic. Believe me, Alcoholics Anonymous was amazed and impressed I asked for all the information I did. Still, I didn’t complete the book.

This fire to write has been with me for as long as I can recall. That’s why I find it hard to believe that for awhile, I forgot what my passion was and I stopped writing.

Becoming a mother was something I knew I was destined to do and be. But like so many people I know, I threw myself so completely into this roll that I forgot who I was. I literally stopped caring for my own passions, goals, and dreams. It was far more important to me to succeed in being, “the best mother I could possibly be.”

Today, I happened upon this video with Jada Pinkett Smith, that explains what women do once they become wives and mothers. It’s not like being a wife or mother is bad. Quite the opposite! It’s an honor and blessing beyond anything I can put into words. It’s just that women who learn to balance these rolls along with taking care of themselves, are the ones we should pay attention to. They are the ones who have figured out the secret to truly being happy.

https://youtu.be/FQK9Ufr4yrY

I would invite you to watch this video because she nailed what I have felt and realized far too late in life and wished I had figured out way sooner.

What does this have to do with writing, you might ask. Well, getting back to the part where I stopped writing and forgot who I was, … It was years later when I started to feel lost. I realized the part of me, the CREATIVE part of me I stifled because I foolishly didn’t think I could or should pursue my dreams because I was a mom now. I sort of got lost. When I hit a wall and put my relationships at risk because I was so chronically depressed and angry, I realized something very, very important.

I mattered.

When I started putting my dreams right up there with the rest of my famiy’s dreams as equally important, there was a shift. I will tell you when it happened.

First, to be honest, it happened over a period of time and I didn’t realize it was coming to me. I ignored the signs that something huge was brewing. The desires for art and creativity in my life that were lacking left me thirsty and yearning. Then I saw Nicholas Sparks’ movie, The Notebook. If you ever saw this film or read the book, there is a scene where Noah knows Allie so well that he leaves her alone one glorious morning with an easel, paints and brushes and arrows paving the way to this surprise. This gesture made me weep. It was then that I asked myself what was my passion? I knew for Allie it was to paint, but for me it was to write.

So I didn’t need my husband to buy me an antique Corona typewriter to fulfill this desire. However, I DID need to give myself permission to have time to write! I have since made sure of it. And once my husband got on board and realized the importance my writing was to me in my life, he suggested I go away to write. “Get a hotel somewhere and write uninterrupted and without guilt,” is what he said.

That is how my novel, After the Fire, was started and the rest you know. I was in a hotel in Fort Bragg, writing a short story inspired by the Valley Fire for a contest and it developed into a novel.

As I’ve said, the editing has been a handful but my next blog entry will show the opening scene with the changes I’ve made. I will share this scene since I already showed some of the book awhile back and you all can read what I’ve come up with. I hope you will like the change in reading Sarah’s point of view as well as Gabriel’s.

Well good night my friends. Thanks for following and as always, sleep well, be well, and read well.