Off the Bookshelf: THE STORY OF WITH, by Allen Arnold

 

Subtitle: A Better Way to Live, Love and Create

A few weeks ago, Realm Makers had an online retreat with Allen Arnold as our teacher. He worked from this book. I bought and read With two years ago, but I needed to read it again. And some of my friends have recommended re-reading it on a regular basis.

This is that type of book, half teaching and half story, that you need to keep reading because you learn something different each time, building on what you learned before.

The "story" is the journey of Mia, who has been disappointed and blocked time and again through her life, kept from following her heart, kept from pursuing the things she loves to do, for the sake of so-called "reality." On a day when several personal disasters strike her all in a row, she ends up out of gas, on foot, lost in the woods, and stumbles on a house where the woman who lives there, Iona, has apparently been waiting for her. She sends Mia on a journey of discovery, in her heart and soul and imagination.

Behind Mia's story of risk and fear and creativity is the simple and yet incredibly complex message that the only way to be truly creative, to follow our hearts, to live life to the fullest, is to do it WITH God. Not creating and serving FOR God, but in partnership WITH Him.

Honestly, in just a week, the simple exercise Allen recommended has been making a change already in me. What is it?

First thing in the morning, ask God, "What do You have planned for us to do together today, Lord?" I'm not saying the answer will be fast or obvious, but just asking sets the tone for the day.

Stand back and watch what happens.

New release sample: NIGHT OF THE LIVING PROOF

 “Mata Hari must be pretty bad, huh?”

“You know how in Buffy, the vampires are always so gorgeous and fun, then right before they sink their teeth into you, they turn really ugly? Lanie? Are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“Close.” No way was I going to admit we had something else in common. With my luck, he’d invite himself to the annual Buffy marathon with Felicity, Mandy, and a few other girls from the ship. I made a mental note to tell them not to tell the Evil Overlord.

“Maybe you should go home. Can you work from home? Can I give you a ride?”

“Aren’t you supposed to butter me up before I give you what you want?” I should have called in sick.

“You are my best friend.”

“No, I’m your commodore who doesn’t want to lose my new communications officer by having you move to Singapore to get away from Mata Hari. How did you ever get linked up with her, that she thought you two were a couple?”

“It started when we were kids. Granddad rented a house here in town one summer.” He leaned back, frowning at me.

“What? What did I do?”

“You probably know her. I think she’s your age.”

“Oh … man …” I fought down another surge of nausea. “Sylvia Grandstone?” I tried to laugh when he nodded. Maybe I hadn’t been hallucinating, catching glimpses of Sylvia? “My condolences. I grew up with her. She did the town a big favor when she ran off to Hollywood and hasn’t looked back since.”

“Warning, she’s back in town, gunning for a June wedding.”

“I have some friends in the military who can probably get you into Witness Protection.”

Daniel’s grin looked a little more normal.

New release sample: NIGHT OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

“Exactly what she said. I told her it was business-related, so she’d be bored, and we were still making arrangements.”

“Wimp.”

That got a grin from him. I thought maybe I had done my good deed for the day, helping him fight through the terror trying to smother him. If my still-nebulous suspicions were right.

“Have mercy?”

“Do I get to dump the Terry column and take back my sports beat?” I burst out laughing at the look of utter panic on his face. “I guess that’s a no. You know something? You make a pretty pathetic Evil Overlord.”

“A what?”

“That’s what I called you when you swept into the office back in November and rearranged everything on us.” I had to explain, since I had let that slip. What was wrong with me? Besides the fact that I actually liked fraternizing with the enemy?

“I’m not evil. I swear.”

“Gotta admit, you’re okay. For a rich guy. Even human,” I added, when that pitiful, begging look came back to his face. “The sign-up is at Eden.”

“You are saving my life.”

Off the Bookshelf: MINIMUM WAGE MAGIC, by Rachel Aaron

 

Audible exclusive, audiobooks

Narrated by Emily Woo Zeller

Major fun! Incredible world-building.

This book takes place the same setting as another series by Aaron, with titles like Nice Dragons Finish Last, set in the living city of Detroit.

Okay, I need to find out how I can get by on 1 hour of sleep a day, just so I can indulge in more of these audio books. And yes, the narrator DOES make a huge difference in enjoyment. This is a great narrator, and I agree with another reviewer who said to please keep Zeller for the other books in this series.

Our heroine, Opal, is a cleaner -- someone who comes in and cleans up when someone defaults and is evicted, or dies, or vanishes in the living, magical, fantasy city of Detroit. Just a slice of the background of this alternate reality: magic has returned to Earth, and the air and water spirits and other "gods" have come back and some of them aren't too happy about what happened to the world while they were gone. Detroit is a living entity, constantly changing, and there aren't really any laws -- except that if you're in debt, you better pay up fast, or else.

Opal has a huge debt to pay, and a deadline to meet. She bids on an apartment where the tenant has defaulted -- the city gets some of its money back, and she gets to keep whatever she finds when she cleans out the apartment. But what she finds leads her on a treasure hunt, in and out of danger, facing the underground of this living city -- and takes the reader on a fascinating tour of this strange and magical world, where dragons are real, criminals are everywhere, and vicious, and you don't want to mess with death gods. Enemies and problems just keep popping up, and betrayal clings to her like a bad luck curse -- which shows up as well. She's one tough chick, and readers find out why, bit by bit, as the story careens through the ever-changing landscape.

SO. MUCH. FUN. Of course, I have to find the rest of the stories of Opal and her AI, and the trouble she's still in at the end of the book. Yeah, and when will I have the TIME? Gee, if all my problems were this kind, I'd be a very happy (sleepless) camper!

New release sample: NIGHT OF THE LIVING PROOF

 “She showed up on Christmas Eve, at my folks’ place in Cincinnati, claiming she must have missed my last phone call to discuss our ‘itinerary,’” he said, making air quotes. “All apologetic about coming so late, since she was so sure I had something wonderful planned for us to do. I went into panic mode when Mom gave me this deer-in-the-headlights look. Especially since we had been talking about some hinted threats from the future in-laws, if their darling little girl’s feelings got hurt.” Daniel sighed and rubbed his face, then raked his fingers through his hair. “All I could come up with for an excuse was taking over the Tattler. Really busy, ignoring everything, keeping my schedule open for emergencies. It was kind of weird how she didn’t react when I said Tattler, because she’s from around here.”

I must have made a sound. Trying to hold back the need to heave. My inner alarm of impending doom was so loud I couldn’t think clearly for a moment or two. Daniel gave me that worried look, like maybe I had turned green again.

“She was all sweet and forgiving and said she understood, and she would keep New Year’s free for us. I managed to sound halfway coherent and told her she was mistaken. I never called her, never emailed her, never made any plans for the holidays, and I already had plans for New Year’s.”

“Doing what?” I asked, feeling a little sorry for him. Now I suspected something of what he faced, the intimidation and the guilt factors being piled on him during that confrontation. All this despite my very sore brain refusing to accept the horrified conclusions trying to solidify out in the light of day.

New release sample: NIGHT OF THE LIVING PROOF

A surge of nausea went through me so strongly, I had probably turned green for a few seconds, at least. The way he was talking about the bride-to-be’s family sounded like the Grandstone clan. Reggie had publicly embarrassed himself last spring, insisting he and Doni Halliday were sweethearts. Until it finally got through his egotistical rock skull that his elusive bride was less than half his age. It was the Grandstone tactic to marry into power and wealth if they couldn’t lie or sue or intimidate to get what they wanted.

“Are you okay?” Daniel asked.

Maybe I had turned green, and it wasn’t just my imagination?

I reflected back on the few times I had thought how he and Sylvia Grandstone were perfect for each other. Before I got to know him. Maybe I had imagined Sylvia around town the last few weeks because I was being so mean to Daniel? A guilty conscience making me hallucinate? I scrambled to get my brain back on track.

“So your mother is trying to deflect things and having a hard time? Don’t suppose you’ve thought about living in a castle with a really deep moat, stocked with piranha?”

That got a sickly grin from him.

“The really sad and kind of ironic part is that until this mess started, Mom was starting to put the ‘when are you going to make me a grandmother?’ pressure on me.”

“So, what’s this mail order bride like?”

He glared at me. Then he must have seen the idiocy of the whole situation, because he kind of deflated and slumped more in his chair and grinned back at me.
 

Off the Bookshelf: SOCIAL MEDIA FOR TODAY'S WRITER, by Diann Mills & Edie Melson

 

Okay, I admit it, I NEED HELP with promotion and just being visible and audible, when it comes to letting people know about my books.

Even after reading this book and getting some, "Oh, okay, that makes sense" moments .... *sigh* it's gonna be a while before I get even a portion of this put into practice.

But this is much-needed advice and guidance, and greatly appreciated.

The authors go through different concepts and platforms, step by step, explaining why something should be done, how, what not to do, and give guidance on keeping things organized. And most important, help authors avoid being overwhelmed!

Chapters discuss laying a foundation for your social media presence, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, LinkedIn, YouTube, and staying organized .... Yeah, I need to read through this book a few more times, and apply sticky notes and highlighter, to help me really put everything taught, simply and clearly, into action.

Thanks, DiAnn and Edie!

New release sample: NIGHT OF THE LIVING PROOF

 “What do you need an excuse not to do?”

“Not exactly do, but see.” Daniel shrugged and put his elbows on the desk and rested his chin in his hands. That made it hard for him to talk, but he managed. “How many times do you have to tell someone you don’t want to spend time with them before they stop insisting that you’re being silly and immature, and you were meant for each other?”

“Sounds fair to me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” That crease between his eyebrows got so deep, it threatened to bisect his nose. It struck me as kind of endearing, even cute. Panic shot through me a moment later.

“You never took the hint when you were chasing me around town.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a bloodsucking gold-digger with a Mata Hari complex.”

“Oh, a female stalker.” I had a hard time smothering laughter, but I tried, just out of a sense of pity.

“Save me. If we’re friends at all, give me a good excuse not to be available.”

“Just tell her you’re not free. You don’t have to give her an excuse.”

“My mother needs an excuse.”

“Your mother is playing matchmaker?”

“Never. She’s just having a hard time walking the line between convincing Mata’s parents that their daughter is delusional, no relationship exists between us, and starting a war in social media that will probably send the stock of our corporation into the basement. These people play hardball. They’ve got this attitude that they’re entitled to have anything they want. If that means marrying into the corporation, then their darling daughter and I don’t have any choice.”

New release sample: NIGHT OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

“Besides, the ship isn’t having a New Year’s party.”

“So that means you’re free?”

Ah ha! We finally touched on the reason for his visit.

“I’m very expensive, and don’t you forget it,” I shot back.

That got raised eyebrows, then a more relaxed grin as he sat back in Franny’s chair. It conveniently tried to collapse into the full recline position, which it was not constructed to do.

While he struggled to get upright again and put Franny’s three sweaters back in place on the back of the chair, I fought with the paralyzing realization of the implications of his question. He wasn’t asking me to go out with him for New Year’s, was he? Why in the world would he do that?

“I’m busy. Working,” I said, when he was sitting upright and gazing hopefully at me again.

“Great. New material?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Umm, hate to tell you, but New Year’s Eve is only five days away. So where are you performing?”

“Eden.” It was no good keeping it a secret from him, since it was in yesterday’s newspaper. “It’s the annual overnight lock-in.”

“Lock-in? Like, no one gets out for the entire night? And no one gets in, once the doors are locked?”

The excitement in his voice made me suspicious. I was tempted to reach across the desk and grab his hand, to try to pick up any images in his mind for clues into his reasons and thoughts. However, no way did I want to hold hands with the ex-Evil Overlord. My only option was to ask or guess.

New release sample: NIGHT OF THE LIVING PROOF

 “Good morning, Daniel. Did you have a nice Christmas? Yes, thanks, how was yours, Lanie?” He gave me that crooked grin too similar to my brothers’ when they were hiding something.

I echoed him obediently, which got a chuckle from him, and wheeled into the building. I paused and wobbled my chair from side to side (getting a wide-eyed look of shock and admiration from Daniel) to knock the sludge off the wheels, onto the entryway mat.

“So what are you doing here? Hiding from something?” I had to ask.

“What makes you say that?” he asked just a little too quickly.

Guilt. Sure sign of it.

“You don’t have to be here. You don’t need to be here. Especially on a Friday, when there’s probably tons of work to do at your own office. Therefore, unusual circumstances.” I led the way up the ramp to the level where my desk sat. The Tattler office occupied all four units in a row of buildings, with the common walls knocked out years ago. I maneuvered as I always did through the detritus from yesterday’s delivery crises. No chance of seeing his face when I made my Sherlockian deductions. Which might have been a mercy stroke for him.

“Maybe I want to see how the newest member of the company is doing, as we get ready to step into a new year?” His usual confident, pleasant expression was back on his nicely square-cut face when I turned around. I had to wonder if I mistrusted him more because he was good-looking than because he took away my beloved sports beat and stuck me with the lovelorn advice column, Talk to Terry.

“Well, I know you’re not fishing for an invitation to the next Trek party, because you have Mandy’s email and phone, so you can ask her.”

“I have just about everybody’s email and phone.” He grinned triumphantly as he settled down at Franny’s desk, which faced mine. Nice of him not to sit on my desk and look down on me. That was a power move I always resented. Sometimes I considered ramming people’s ankles with the footrests of my chair in response.

New release sample: NIGHT OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

There ought to be a law against a workday landing between Christmas and the weekend. I knew what waited for me. The half-awake feeling of the day after a holiday at the newspaper office. Everyone straggling in, fighting the don’t-I-get-a-holiday-too pokiness of the computers. The computers at our office made me believe in animism—inorganic objects having sentience. For instance, in college, my adviser celebrated the first snowfall of the season throwing snowballs at the window of the Humanities dean … until one snowball broke it. When we had a freeze two days later, the only pipes on the entire Willis-Brooks College campus that froze and broke were in his office. Animism.

My brain still churned over our breakfast conference, the poisoned dart in my neck, and the adrenaline rush of having had my life threatened. I could have claimed some invalid status, either physical or emotional. But no, I had responsibility branded into my genetic structure by my parents. Which was weird, considering what hippies they were.

So with heavy heart and slushy gloves, I pushed my chair through the sludge filling the parking lot and up the ramp to the office door. And nearly got brained by the door when Daniel pushed it open just as I was reaching for the handle.

Yes, I had finally gotten into the habit of calling him Daniel instead of the Evil Overlord. Honestly, how could I hate a fellow Trekker who was a not-so-secret-anymore fan of my comedy?

“What are you doing here?” I nearly forgot to grab at my wheels to keep from sliding backwards down the ramp.

Having the new owner show up before the office was officially open for business was odd enough to be suspicious.