Goodbye, Hello.

Goodbye, Hello.

Santa Lucia

Here's another short snippet from "Distant Shore" that got deleted during the editing process. It's about today, St. Lucy Day, and it takes place in Halmar, at Naomi's apartment in her Seaside Hotel. Happy St. Lucy Day, y'all!

On St. Lucia’s day, she woke him early in the morning.

Solveigh and Andrea were with her, in long, white gowns, and Solveigh was wearing a crown of burning candles on her open hair, the flames gently flickering, casting golden highlights onto her locks.

They were singing, their voices blending beautifully, and serving him coffee and fresh saffron rolls on a tray decorated with more burning candles and green branches that smelled of forest and raisin.

Jon sat up in bed, confused and displaced, and stared at the fairy spectacle before him.

“It is really a Swedish custom,” Solveigh explained, “But we love it. We bring light and breakfast to the hotel guests, and we do it for you, as well. Welcome to our home, Wonder Boy.”

 Wax was dripping into her hair, but she did not seem to mind.

There was a solemn quietness about the early hour and the three female figures walking through the room, lighting candles and transforming the apartment into an enchanted environment.  

Time seemed to move slower during these weeks before Christmas, almost as if the people around him willed it so, savoring every minute of the dark time instead of wishing it over as fast as possible, making a feast of every day, celebrating every morning that brought them closer to the longest night. It fitted so well with the impression he had gained on Midsummer Night when they had feasted on the meadow until sunrise, then, too, marking the change of the seasons and making space in their lives to step out of the routine for hours of celebrating nothing else but the light and the summer and the balmy air.

Ruined For Life

There's something really cool about being stupid.
If you're stupid about things, you can enjoy them as they are, see them through the eyes of an innocent, take them at face value.
Let's look at an example: the Lord of the Rings movies. Aren't they just like WOW when you see them for the first time? Aren't you amazed at how real everything looks, and how in the world did they make actors we all know be as small as Hobbits? The Moria mines, Lothlorien – it looks so REAL!
Didn't you watch with child-like amazement? I know I did. Until I watched the "Making Of".
Now I know how they made Gandalf seem so much larger than Bilbo, and how they create these fairy worlds against a blue backdrop. Those characters didn't really wander through a magical forest or sculpted caves. They were safe and dry in a studio, and computers did the rest.
So when I watch Lord of the Rings now, the wonder is gone, and I hate that. I hate that I watched those stupid documentaries and destroyed the illusion for myself. Those tricks and manipulations, I didn't need to know about them. But now that I do, I can't unthink them.

It's the same with books.
After having written three myself, after having gone through the editing and publishing process with two of them, the innocence of reading – and writing – is gone forever.
What I'm trying to say is, I can't pick up a book anymore and just enjoy it. The editing and critique devil never sleeps now, and it's a very ferocious master.

You introduce NINE characters in the first chapter of you novel? NUH HUH!!!
You TELL the entire back story on the first three pages of your book? PLEASE DON'T!
Your metaphors and comparisons are well-used phrases? BORING!
You use big words just to show your readers you know them? PLEASE!

It's a strange world. Reading has been ruined for me.
Of course, not all of it. But it's so much easier to separate bad writing from good, strained writing from the seemingly effortless ease of elegantly flowing words.
There's this one thing that I've been wondering about for a while now. Are writers incapable of seeing if their writing is good or not? Shouldn't they be able to see it?
Generally, if you've become a writer, you've also always been a reader. Can't a writer tell good stuff from the bad? And if you can see it in the books you read, why can't you see it in your own writing?

I'd really like to hear what you think.

The Storm, The Writer and The Chicken

So while Hurricane Sandy is making its slow but potentially lethal way toward New York City - which makes me wonder; WHY is it always NYC? Godzilla, Independence Day, Day After Tomorrow, Planet of the Apes, and so many more - why is it always NYC that gets battered?
Anyway - while Sandy is making its way toward New York, my  dear friend Johanna Harness is lamenting the fact that I made chicken soup yesterday without documenting and posting the procedure.

To be honest, it never occurred to me. I make chicken soup so often in winter, it's much like making coffee: I don't think about it anymore.
But for Johanna, and anyone else who wants to know, this is how I make chicken soup, how I learned to make it from my grandmother. It is NOT a low-fat recipe. But it's the Number One of all comfort foods on a stormy, cold October day.

The things you need:

a chicken. And I don't mean one of your lean, I'll-be-done-in-ten-minutes chicken. I mean a hefty farm hen that has led a long life and acquired some meat and yes, fat.

some veggies:
- a couple of nice, big organic carrots
- celeriac. Yes, one of these ugly buggers, peeled and cut into chunks, and it won't harm at all if you wash and toss in the green, as well.

- one or two stems of leek, cut into... oh, let's say, thumb-length pieces (WASHED, of course!)
- two or three bay leaves
- salt and pepper
- a cube or two of Knorr chicken stock.
Did you know Knorr is a German company? Just like Maggi.

Now the secret to making a chicken soup that will stay clear and be really aromatic is that you need to put it on COLD.
So put all these ingredients in a large pot, add COLD water until the chicken is well covered, and bring to a boil without a lid. Once the soup begins to boil, cover tightly, and turn down the heat to medium (or less) until the soup simmers. NO more boiling, just gentle simmering. Can you SMELL it? And do you know what makes that heavenly smell so heavenly? It's that ugly bugger, the celeriac!

And then you forget about it for the next two or three hours.
See, this is one reason why I love to make chicken soup. It takes about ten minutes to put in the pot, and then you have all the time in the world to write!

Two hours later, the soup is done - but not ready.
You need something to go inside, right? It's a matter of taste whether you prefer noodles or rice - I've never been able to make up my mind. Basmati rice is really, really delicious in chicken soup, but so are noodles. Don't buy the cheapest you can get. Buy really nice egg noodles of your preferred shape.
But whatever you use, ride or noodles, cook them separately, not in the soup!

Remove the chicken from the pot and cut off the meat. If you bought the nice farm hen I was talking about, you'll have plenty of juicy, tender meat! Distribute it into the serving bowl, add your rice or noodles, and ladle the soup over it. Some people like the boiled vegetables (like my husband), some hate them (like me).
And.. SERVE!

Oh - you might want to know this. A bottle of Maggi condiment is never missing on a German table when there's chicken soup.

It's a total staple in German households! I've seen it in American grocery stores, so if yours has it, buy it. I promise. It will change your life forever. Add a dash to your soup before eating... hmmmm....
If you want to know, it's made from a herb that's called "Liebstöckel" in Germany. My dictionary tells me the English word is "lovage".

So here you go, Johanna: German, homemade chicken soup! Enjoy!

Almost a Hobbit

It's funny how these blog hops change things.
Suddenly, I'm friends with so many more people, people I knew from Twitter but who seemed so far away in space and time that we never really got to talking.
One of these people is the wonderful Carrie Bailey, who lives in New Zealand. It's the other end of the world, for me.
When I asked her if she would participate in my blog hop for Under The Same Sun she agreed immediately, which is why New Zealand is reading about me and my books right now. Well – not all of New Zealand, of course. But some folks.
Here is one interesting snippet about Carrie: she was almost a hobbit.
When Peter Jackson went to New Zealand to film "Lord of the Rings" she almost applied to be an extra in the movies, as a hobbit. But she didn't. Which is why I can't point at the screen every time we watch those movies and say, "Do you see that hobbit girl with the tankards? That's my friend!"

So here is Carrie's guest blog. Welcome to Germany, Carrie!

A month ago I was watching television in my moldy little Wellington apartment with my kiwi (New Zealander) boyfriend when what might have been the single greatest opportunity of my life flashed across the screen. “Watch all your favorite shows at the same time as the Americans!” 

That struck a cord. I’ve always lived in strange and isolated areas and grew up out of range of cable broadcasting. I remember thinking as a kid living on the westernmost point of the Oregon coast, “Hey wait a minute! Those people in Eastern Standard Time get to see National Geographic before we do.” Such things leave one feeling somehow left out, don’t they?

Since moving to New Zealand, I’ve come to believe that time zone related resentment is an understudied phenomenon. I don't often watch television, but knowing I could have access to it at the same time as my family and friends do back home does make me feel very 21rst century. It’s a good feeling, like being part of a global community rather than dangling off the very edge of it. Did I mention we line dry our clothes here? Even when it’s raining, because clothes dryers are considered optional?

And then, there’s the Internet access. A few years ago I would have thought that my New Zealand standard 40 GB per month Internet service might be the basis for a horror movie: The Country that Charged by the Gigabyte! But, hey, that’s the real New Zealand. 

There are no hobbits and all of that beautiful scenery from the Lord of the Rings is largely tucked away out of view on the South island. Geographical isolation has its benefits though. Take the kiwi bird for example. The steep New Zealand hills were full of oddly shaped flightless birds of all shapes and sizes. Isolation allows unique things to develop like a quasi-religious national obsession with their beefy rugby team, the All-Blacks who always perform the indigenous Maori war chant called a haka before games, or Peter Jackson’s movie industry, which sprung up from nowhere almost overnight to make The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. 

With such a small population, it seems nearly everyone participated to make things happen. I admit I almost went to the casting calls to be an extra for The Hobbit, but stopped short, because I feared I might end up remembered forever as female hobbit, scene five, holding the green mug. “Yes, I was bar wench hobbit standing behind Bilbo for two seconds about ten minutes in,” I would have to say over and over again to German tourists in my half-Oregonian half-kiwi accent. 

By the way, that kiwi boyfriend I mentioned earlier was one of the enormous mucous-covered, heavily muscled creatures from the invasion force in the second Lord of the Rings movie. Or, at least, he and half of Wellington helped provide the sound effects for the opening fight scene by loading into the stadium and stamping their feet in unison. So, in a way, he was. In a small-framed-high-fore-headed-accountant-looking sort of way. 

Unfortunately, I’ve never had any real interest in acting. I paint. I do graphic design and I write. I’m writing a dystopian novel set in New Zealand’s future. Though nearly indistinguishable from a fantasy novel set in ancient Babylon, there are considerably more flightless birds in my story. And while no New Zealand authors are household names, I’m not without hope. It is a major global oversight. This country has a unique region of immense biodiversity, isolated and peculiar in the most compelling ways. The largest insect in the world lives here. It’s like a grasshopper on steroids. If you want to see something different, something inspirational, here is good for that. If you want to watch streaming video? Maybe not so much. Fortunately, we’ve got this lovely little shop down the road with a thriving DVD rental business. 

It was The Country that Time Forgot, but for me, it’s the best writing environment I could imagine. And the time zone envy? I got over that once I discovered the DVD shop have a sizeable videocassette collection, too. No, really! I was even asked if I had a machine that played them once. When was the last time you saw one of those? 

Don’t be jealous. You come for the Hobbit premier and you can get the cassette as a souvenir. 

Carrie Bailey 

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"Land of Hope" - a mosaic of voices

Today I have the honor of introducing Junying Kirk to you.
She's been an author friend for a long time, and I've watched her write this book with joy and anticipation. Here's my review of her latest novel.



Land of Hope Book Blurb

Every year, millions of illegal immigrants cross borders in search of wealth, happiness and a life of ease in the Land of Hope. Some succeed. Others suffer unimaginable hardships. 

When Jack Gordon, Inspector in the SCS (Serious Crime Squad) hires Pearl Zhang, a professional Chinese interpreter, they join forces to fight injustice in the corrupt underworld of international crime, human trafficking and sexual exploitation. 

Pearl is the voice of broken dreams, translating raw, deranged, and colorful tales of those who cannot speak for themselves. As Pearl gets more and more tangled in the lives of strangers, Jack becomes a welcome diversion, complicated by the fact that both are married. Their trans-continental roller-coaster ride derails when Pearl tumbles into the sinister world of her clients, a world full of secrets, lies, and unspeakable violence - only this time, it's directed at her. 

Can she depend on Jack? Find out in this third and final book of Junying Kirk's "Journey to the West" trilogy.   

Land Of Hope - a review

Land Of Hope by author Junying Kirk was not at all what I expected. 

What begins like a comfortable English TV crime show—much in the vein of Inspector Lewis or Midsomer Murders—soon spills over into a multi-layered tapestry of interwoven stories. 

Kirk, like her female protagonist, Pearl, is of Chinese origin,and an interpreter of Mandarin. She  too, is married, lives  in England, and works with the police and the courts, which makes her insights into their workings authentic, and at times bleak. As if to counterbalance this, she weaves a love story into her novel, one that seems as surprising to the characters, as it is to the reader. Pearl and Gordon just aren’t meant for each other, and we feel it right away. While around them the many layers of the mystery—that begins with the fire at the fruit packaging plant— unfolds, Pearl and DI Gordon take time out for a break from the reality of their problematic marriages and dreary work days.

Kirk’s language in the chapters dealing with Pearl and Gordon and the investigation is brisk, sometimes even male in its directness, but her real strength shows in the chapters told from the Chinese immigrants’ point of view.

I’m not sure Kirk realizes her true potential lies here: even hardships in a Maoistic China sound lyrical, reminiscent of Pearl Buck, and are alluringly exotic to a European reader. The reason may be that she uses first-person narrative in these parts of the book, but there is also a fluent, comfortable flow to the language that is missing from the crime chapters.

Kirk is not afraid of using violence, and decribes these scenes in realistic detail.

Let me just say, her heroine Pearl is made of sterner stuff than most women.

Land Of Hope is a satisfying read, but since it’s the third in a trilogy, you may want to start with books one and two.

Junying Kirk is an author to watch, and I look forward to her giving us more insights into the culture of China in her future books.

                               Amazon.com

                               Amazon.co.uk
                               Smashwords

Author Bio: Junying Kirk grew up in the turbulent times of the Cultural Revolution. A British Council scholarship led her to study English Language Teaching at a top English University in 1988, followed by further postgraduate degrees at Glasgow and Leeds. She has worked as an academic, administrator, researcher, teacher, cultural consultant and professional interpreter. She loves reading and is the author of 'Journey to the West' trilogy, The Same MoonThe Same Moon,  Trials of Life and Land of Hope, and she blogs at http://www.junyingkirk.com. 

The blog hop goes on here: http://doreenmcgettigan.com Don't forget to check it out tomorrow!

Buddhapuss Ink: Yes Virginia, It Is a Blog Hop and Other Fun Stuff...

The Blog Hop for Under the Same Sun is on! You can follow all stops from my publisher's page.
Do leave a comment for your chance to win a free copy of the book!

Here's the link:



Buddhapuss Ink: Yes Virginia, It Is a Blog Hop and Other Fun Stuff...: MONDAY, OCTOBER 15th - follow @Mariam_Kobras on twitter as she celebrates the launch of her new book, UNDER THE SAME SUN . Mariam will be tw...