Mister Marmee Has Returned - The Case of the Wayward Fae Is Now Available

There are some moments in life that are worth celebrating. Marriage. The birth of a child. The big promotion. Getting that goiter removed. For me, I have tremendous cause for celebration because my second novel, The Case of the Wayward Fae ~ A Chronicle of Mister Marmee, was released on December 7, 2013, just in time for the Christmas holiday. I know, I know. We are two months past the release date, and I am only now getting around to posting about it on my blog. I never said I was the best PR person in the business or very good at marketing in general.

The truth of the matter is, it felt like the release day would never get here. Not the announcement part....the release part. The journey to bringing The Case of the Wayward Fae was a hard one. It was paved with sweat, as one would expect, but it was also paved with pieces of my shattered heart.

I suppose every novel can be described as a labor of love, but for this novel, it could not be more true. As most readers will discover when they reach the conclusion of this adventure, tucked within the 'Thank You' at the end of the book, is the soft, nuggety truth behind this story. The Case of the Wayward Fae might never have been completed. At least not for a long, long time. I know. It sounds a bit dramatic, but it is true.

My real-life Sir Happy Heart...my inspiration for the dachshund detective in the Chronicles of Mister Marmee...passed away February 19, 2013 before I had completed the novel. I was roughly two thirds of the way through the manuscript when my world was shattered by his loss. His death was not a peaceful one, at least not peaceful for my heart, and I did not know if I would be able to finish the story that had begun so joyfully with him laying by my side. Every time I looked at my computer, the brittle pieces of heart that I had managed to gingerly pull back together fell apart once again. I could not write the words without feeling the emptiness on the bed beside me.

The voice of the story seemed to die with my boy as if he held in his tender paw the key to it all. There was silence in my head and in my heart. No words would come to me. There was an emptiness in me that defied expression. I wondered if I would ever hear the rich tones of Sir Happy Heart's and Mister Marmee's voices in my mind again; there distinct Bristish accents bantering back and forth. I wondered if my heart could bear to hear them. I often wondered if my heart could bear their crushing silence.


It took time, but in the aftermath of my loss, I found my way back to Victorian London. Slowly, the ending of the story took shape, and miraculously, I found my way to the last word of the final chapter. But it was months...MONTHS before I could bring myself to touch the novel for editing. My heart was too broken. Too shattered. There were too many eerie parallels between the story I had written and what had happened when I had lost my boy. The parallels were unintended and were written when my world was whole and full of happiness and the sounds of my real-life Sir Happy Heart. After he was gone, I found every excuse under the sun NOT to touch the manuscript again. I  even cleaned out my fridge. Who does that unless it is out of sheer desperation or under direct order from the Centers for Disease Control?

I found a lovely program called SmartEdit that enabled me to begin the process of editing my novel in a more clinical way. I lanced the adverbs and slashed the repetition. I boiled the clichés and the bad word usage right out of my novel without ever breaking a sweat or shedding a tear. It took the sting out of the emotional prose I had written and turned them into cold text that I could analyze without breaking my heart over and over again. It gave me time to heal. Then, when I was ready, I read my story.

This time I cried; not because my heart was broken from the loss of my boy but because I felt the triumph of seeing him once more gallivant across the page. The characteristics that made me love him in life were captured in all their charming glory. He was not lost to me. He was alive again in the pages of my book. Oh yes, I cut and pasted and bled upon the pages, "killing the little darlings" I had worked so hard to write over the two years of this book's creation. I would be lying if I said my words came out perfect the first time, but even in their imperfection, I could see him. My Sir Happy Heart. The little tenacious boy I love still. Though I miss him as much today as I did the moment he left me, I feel a comfort in knowing he is near me once again as I write.

In fact, one of the reasons why it has taken me so long to make this post is the fact the voices of Sir Happy Heart and Mister Marmee have been hounding me with a vengeance. The third installment of the Chronicles of Mister Marmee is well on its way. The Christmas holiday proved very productive and gave the story a boost I could only have dreamed of.

The Case of the Monkey's Misfortune is proving to be a fun adventure and every bit as unexpected as the first two novels. I cannot wait to see where the story will take me to next. The one thing I know for certain, above all other truths. No matter where the story leads, Sir Happy will be with me, walking by my side through each and every word. Wherever we end up, I know now we will journey there together, just as we always did.

If you enjoyed this post, don't forget to join the community by clicking 'Join this site' on the right or by following via Google+. Checkout H.L. Stephen's novels 'The Case of Jack the Nipper' and 'The Case of the Wayward Fae', available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.





Life Lessons From My Dog: Throwing Off the Shackles of a Sophisticated World

Grow up. Act your age. Be an adult. Be serious.

We have all heard these phrases before; either directed at us or someone we know. If we are old enough, perhaps we have even found cause to say them ourselves in moments of anger or frustration. So often, there comes a turning point in our lives, when these phrases cease to be just phrases that are spoken out of a moment of rash impatience. They become our mantra....our identity....the banner by which we live our lives, where we no longer identify with the child we once were. Where there is no room in our hearts for that child to exist.

The moment tends to come when we reach that magic age of maturity. At that golden pinnacle of maturation, we are expected to grow up. Be mature. Put away childish things to embrace a world that is serious and sophisticated. We replace Kool-Aid with mixed drinks. We pretend to be chic - cooler and hipper than we really are. We scoff at the simple pleasures that used to bring us joy, like chasing fireflies in the back yard and walking barefoot in the grass. We seek instead to fill our lives with more grown-up noises and distractions, as though somehow sophistication will make our lives feel more meaningful and fulfilled. We forget what it feels like to be silly and care free, because in our grown-up world, part of being grown-up means taking the weight of the world upon our shoulders and plugging our ears to the sounds of joyful jingles and silly giggles.

I have felt the growing weight of my grown up world as of late, and I have, at times, felt suffocated beneath the burdens it has laid upon my already over-burdened shoulders. I have found little solace, or joy for that matter, in the sophistication and serious demeanor the world has taken on around me. I marvel at the letdown I feel in the environment I once craved so much as a burgeoning young woman. I could find no comfort in any of it. Not the noise. Not the sophistication. Not the grown-up ways. I thought I would be swept away by it all until a simple, little fluff of joy showed me the secret to maintaining my sanity in the midst of my crazy, grown-up life.

My secret lies with Peanut Pumpkin Pie. She just turned nine years old. That means by human standards, she is very mature. In fact, some might even go so far as to categorize her as having passed the old fart stage and slipped well into her Sansabelt-wearing, shuffleboard playing years. She is mostly blind in one eye, she had her right knee reconstructed, she has issues with her gall bladder, and she has a touch of arthritis that plagues her when the weather grows cold or when the air conditioner is turned up too high. She has a retinue of medicines that have to be taken on a schedule; some of which are compounded by our local pharmacist. She is a mess, but you better not tell her any of that, because Peanut won't listen to you. She is too busy enjoying life.

Peanut doesn't "act her age;" she defies it. She is the same silly billie baby she was when she was little. I have had her since she was six weeks old, so I should know. Maybe it is because no one has ever told her what her limitations should be. I never set the ground rules on how she should act, aside from 'don't poop on the floor' and 'no chewing mommy's shoes'. Even such transgressions would be forgiven were they to occur. I have just spent the last nine years relishing the joy Peanut brings to my life; the uncomplicated, silly, undemanding, pleasurable joy that comes from the life we share together.

Peanut and I wear silly clothes together. I have often said if I were to open a line of shops, they would be a string of 'Mommy and Me' boutiques where eccentric owners like me could buy matching outfits for themselves and their pets. Sweaters, shirts, coats, flashy shoes, the works! The sky would be the limit as far as what I would offer. Not because I view pets as an accessory to be dressed up and shown off but because pets are too integral a part of our lives to be given anything less than what is equal to what we give ourselves.

Peanut and I play with the same toys. I have often assaulted and annoyed my fellow shoppers with my incessant need to test the squeakability of the dog toys I contemplate buying my little angel. In my mind, it must have the right tone, texture, and look to be acceptable for my Peanut. And not just any toy will do. It has to be something that will bring out the smile on her face; the smile that I love so much.

We sing together, break bread together, do laundry together, read books, tell stories, run amok, you name it. There are so many things Peanut and I share. I could enumerate them all, and still never reach the end of the list because something new would come along and add itself just at the moment when I thought I had reached its ending. Peanut is full of surprises and so is my life with her.

With Peanut, I am not sophisticated. I giggle like a child when she kisses my face. I seek her kisses just so I can feel the giggles bubble up from my tummy and burst forth, lightening my heart in a way nothing else can. I run in the grass with her like a gangly adolescent; awkward and graceless, true, but oblivious to anything but the joy I feel when that little smiley face looks back at me. I roll on the floor when we play in the house; forgetting that I am "too old" for such childish behavior. We share popsicles together, and I always give her the best part. I kiss her nose with abandon, never contemplating the germ count or what she might have been sniffing or licking before coming to say hi.

Everything in life is sweeter for me when Peanut is near. I have often wondered why that is. Why does Peanut transform the world for me? Why does she make my life so special? One day the veil was lifted, and I was blessed with a rare moment of understanding. Every day, Peanut renews and rekindles the child in me. She reminds me what it feels like to embrace the wonder and the innocence in the world around me. She helps me throw off the shackles of my oppressive "grown-up" ways so I can once again find the joy in chasing fireflies and walking barefoot in the grass.

With Peanut in my life, I can see the pictures in the clouds as they float by. She helps me believe in fantastical possibilities, which are the essence of the worlds I create. As a writer, it is paramount that I have the ability to dream the impossible; to imagine realms beyond the world in which I live my daily life. Such pure abandon is something I knew when I was a child, unfettered by the harsh realities of an unyielding world. Everything was possible then, and with Peanut as my daily example of silliness and unsophistication, all things are possible once again.

I am still required to live within a "grown-up" world with its "grown-up" responsibilities. I still have bills to pay and people to answer to. Sometimes the two are as unpleasant as it gets. I do not live in Never-Neverland. I have discovered, however, thanks to Peanut's example, that I do not have to live by every rule the "grown-up" world requires.

As long as there are fireflies to chase, I will chase them. As long as there are clouds in the sky, I will look for the fantastic images they form. I will run and giggle and seek every opportunity I am granted to let the child in me come out to play. If I am truly blessed, each one of those moments of pure abandon will be shared with a little 10 pound Pomeranian named Peanut Pumpkin Pie who reminds my heart each day what it means to live life to the fullest at any age.

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If you enjoyed this post, don't forget to click "Join this site" in the upper right hand of the screen. Check out H.L. Stephens' novel The Case of Jack the Nipper available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble. The Case of the Wayward Fae, book 2 in the Chronicles of Mister Marmee series, has been newly released and is available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

H.L. Stephens is mystery and fantasy novelist who lives in the Appalachian Mountains with her best friend and Pomeranian Peanut Pumpkin Pie. She is currently finishing her third novel Journey to the Darkened Realms, a fantasy adventure novel, and has just begun work on the third installment of the Chronicles of Mister Marmee series entitled The Case of the Monkey's Misfortune. Both novels are due out in 2014.

Life Lessons From My Dog: Taking One Day At A Time

For so many of us, as life unfolds, it begins to feel a little like a game of chess. It is never enough to plan for tomorrow; we must stay several moves ahead of the game, planning out aspects of our lives to the umpteenth degree. Parents plan their children's academic careers while their children are still in diapers. Teenagers begin their lifelong battle with anxiety over becoming a failure before they have a chance to enter puberty, and adults (if they are "smart") begin to plan their retirement before they are old enough to buy alcoholic beverages legally. We live so far in the future in our planning, in our hopes, in our worries, we tend to miss out on the important little things that happen around us each and every day.

I will be the first to admit that I have been caught up in the future's game before. It is an easy enough habit to slip into. I always loved the game of chess, and even as a child, I was a natural at the strategy it required. I was never annoyingly competitive the way some people are. I just loved the challenge of out-thinking and out-maneuvering my opponent; surprising them with moves they could not anticipate. I loved learning from my mistakes and my losses, which were many in the beginning but grew fewer and farther between as I gained experience.

I would focus on the game and make sure at all times, I had at least seven moves planned out ahead of where I was. I always tried to anticipate my opponent's response to each of my moves, planning in turn what I would do next. It was an exhilarating mental exercise. I used these skills when I went to college, and I applied them when I entered the work force. I had every move of my future planned out perfectly, but then life happened.

The one big difference between chess and life is that chess has rules that every strategist must follow. Your opponent can't knock your pieces off the board or smack you in the face with them. He or she can, but they can expect to be banned from the game. Life on the other hand is not limited by such restrictions. There is no etiquette when life knocks you on your rear-end. It just happens, and all the planning in the world...all of the strategy...cannot prepared you for what you weren't expecting. You have one of two options when this happens. You can fold...give up...admit defeat...lay down your king and walk away, or you can pick yourself up...wipe off your bloody knees...allow yourself a good cry (if you are me) and start a new course.

I have been knocked down so many times in life, I have a pillow tied to my bottom for good measure. I plan for the future. Don't get me wrong. I dream of things both big and small. I am a writer. I weave the impossible every day. What I try very hard not to do is allow myself to become so focused on tomorrow that I miss the beauty each day brings. The simple little miracles that uplift the heart and keep you from being eaten with regret if and when tragedy strikes.

No, I didn't attend a self-help seminar to help me reach this moment of clarity, and I didn't gain any wisdom from staying at a Holiday Inn Express. I learned the importance of living each day to its fullest and taking each day as it comes by living my life with my dog, Peanut Pumpkin Pie.

Peanut is a nutball...my silly billie girl. She gives me more reasons to laugh in a single day than anything else. She is my happy place, and I have written about her many times, to the joy and perhaps annoyance of others. I have shared her adventures, her antics, her wisdoms and her copious photos. What I have not shared...what has remained my private struggle...has been the many times I have faced losing my precious little girl.

I have always known my time with Peanut would be too short. Dogs don't live as long as people. We are only gifted with their unconditional love for a short time, but I had always planned on it being at least 15 years of bliss. That was my minimum. The first time I was faced with the possibility of losing her because of her health, Peanut was 3, and I was still a wreck for weeks after she pulled through. She was up and playing with her toys; I was balling my eyes out about how unfair life was. The second episode wasn't much different. She was fine, living each day as a new day while I was looking into the dark, unknown wondering when the terrible day was going to come along and destroy my happiness forever.

Then, it was my turn to scare my family with illness. That is when I discovered what it meant to take one day at a time. I won't go into the details of my illness. It really doesn't matter. It was long. It sucked. It required surgery. That sucked. I was out of work for two months recovering. All the while, my Peanut was there by my side. Each day was a new glorious day for her. It didn't matter what tomorrow brought. Today was the best day. Mommy was home. I wasn't leaving. That was all that mattered for her today.

Peanut knew I was sick; catastrophically sick. When she brought me toys, it wasn't so we could play some rowdy game of tug-o-war or "it's gettin' me". It was so I could rest the toy in my hand, and she could groom it, because somehow she knew that was all I could handle. My recovery was hard, but Peanut helped me get through it one day at a time, without dreading the next day. The next day didn't matter. All I needed was to get through the day I was in.

Peanut and I got through my illness together. We have gotten through a great many things one day at a time since those days. I have never forgotten the lesson she taught me.

The last time Peanut got sick, I was faced with the possibility of her dying. Her liver and gall bladder were damaged by toxins in a high end dogfood, and we didn't know if her little body would pull through. I spent every penny I had to save her and then some, wracking up a massive bill with her vet. We did everything modern veterinary medicine offered as a solution. All we could do once the medicines were given and action was taken was wait and pray. I had a choice. I could either fall to pieces and miss whatever time I had left with her, or I could take it one day at a time and relish each moment Peanut and I had together. I chose the later of the two choices.

Peanut wasn't well enough to play, but I wanted her to have as much interaction with me as I could give her, so I carried her everywhere. I sang songs to her; songs I had made up over the years that had her name in it. I brushed her. I rubbed her ears. I caressed her. I did all of the things I could think of to make her feel the full measure of my love for her. I took one day at a time, and I made sure each day was as full as I could make it. I endeavored as much as was humanly possible to lay down the worries of tomorrow, and I just took one day at a time. Peanut and I are still taking one day at a time.

Life has bopped me in the face so many times since I learned Peanut's valuable lesson. It feels sometimes like life is challenging my ability to just take it one day at a time. Some days it is easier than others, and there are those moments when I find myself reverting to those old habits of plotting my moves far into the future. Then little Peanut comes along with a toy or a scrunchie or a happy sock, begging me to remember the joy in the day that God has given me. I look at her smiling little face I find so utterly irresistible, and I lay my strategizing down once again. I never regret the surrender; at least I haven't so far. It has gotten me through too many other challenges that life has thrown my way.

Leave it to a dog to teach mankind what true happiness is all about.

If you enjoyed this blog post, don't forget to "Join this site!" on the right of the page. Also, check out The Case of Jack the Nipper Book 1 in the Chronicles of Mister Marmee, available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble. The Case of the Wayward Fae, Book 2 in the series, is coming soon.

The Next Big Thing...Blog Hopping With H.L. Stephens

Hello friends! Today is a bit of an experiment for me so bear with me as I muddle my way through it. I was graciously invited to be part of THE NEXT BIG THING blog hop by Vicki Taylor, a fellow novelist and all around generous soul, who coordinated all of this so the rest of us could share our newest projects with the rest of you. Here is how Vicki describes the purpose of the blog hop: 

“THE NEXT BIG THING” is designed to raise awareness of our work, or work in progress. We do that by answering ten questions about it. We graciously thank the person who nominated us, and tag four to six other authors whose work could very well be THE NEXT BIG THING.

So having made the introductions, here we go:
 

What is the working title of your next book?

The Chronicles of Mister Marmee ~ The Case of the Wayward Fae
Book 2 in the Chronicles of Mister Marmee Series

Where did the idea come from for the book?

The idea of the Wayward Fae popped into my head one day when I was showering. (For some reason, I get a LOT of ideas when I shower. Some people sing in the shower; I apparently write. Go figure.) There is a story from my mother’s childhood I have always loved. She was a precocious little girl and extremely bright which is reflected in the events of this particular story. I had been reading quite a bit about fairy lore; more specifically about the historic references to ‘encounters’ with fairies and the like. I started thinking about the story of my mother and about the things I had read involving these encounters. I suddenly had this idea begin to weave itself in my mind, and within a short period of time, the Case of the Wayward Fae took shape. It was rough but that is how it came to be.

What genre does your book fall under?

The Chronicles of Mister Marmee series falls into the crime/mystery genre but with an unconventional twist. It is set in Victorian Era London and in some ways has a Holmesian vibe, but toss out what you know or think you know about this writing style. I like to break the rules a bit.

As far as age group, I don't write with a specific age group in mind. I view my audience as ageless, if that makes sense. I would hate to tell a child in middle school they couldn't handle Pride and Prejudice or an adult they aren't allowed to enjoy Harry Potter. I think each person can decide for themselves whether my novel is something they would enjoy.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Although I had not contemplated it before this blog hop, I will take a stab at casting the lead characters ~

Mister Marmee: (voice) Sir Derek Jacobi
Sir Happy Heart: (voice) Orlando Bloom
Lady Jasmine: (voice) Kate Blanchett
Doctor Stephen Hanover: Colin Firth
Charles Hurst: Jude Law
Amelia Hurst: Mia Wasikowska
Inspector Hyrum Farley: Chris Hemsworth

 

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Upon retreating to the country for a much needed holiday, Mister Marmee and Sir Happy Heart’s investigative skills are pushed to the absolute limits when a series of fanciful fairy encounters are complicated by two suspicious accidental deaths, two attempted murders, an arson, and the disappearance of a young girl who no one knows is missing.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

The search is currently underway for appropriate representation for this work.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Mister Marmee has been an old friend of my imagination for many years now. My first novel in this series, ‘The Case of Jack the Nipper’, was an act of love which took the better part of six years to complete from start to finish (including editing and release). I was going to school full time and working so I crammed in what I could when I could. The second novel is much the same. I will note it is still a work in progress, but I got the idea for the second book two years ago while I was still neck deep in the first one. I guess if you pushed together all of the hours I have written on the second book over the last two years and viewed it as if I were writing it on a full time basis, it has taken me a few months to get where I am in the manuscript.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I honestly don’t know of any books that are like mine, although I have been told there are mystery books with cats in them. From what I understand, mine is a unique concept, but The Art of Racing In the Rain by Garth Stein is a book that has the similarity of being told from an animal's perspective.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

If a picture says a thousand words, then, here are four pictures that speak to the amazing little boy who is my Sir Happy Heart. Fifteen years ago this February, we brought this amazing little boy home, and he has taught me so much about the spirit, ingenuity, loyalty, and love these little creatures have. My Sir Happy (or Happydog as we call him) has gotten me through some of the best and worst times in my life. He has been a faithful friend and as true to me as any person I have ever known. There is no greater inspiration I could have for the Sir Happy Heart in my story. Mister Marmee in truth was the perfect compliment to my little boy. I never planned on writing a novel really but I wanted something that would be a lasting testament to the amazing individual Happydog has always been. I wanted to honor him for his love and friendship, and so I started to write the story of a dashing young dachshund who could solve any puzzle and sniff out any clue; a perfect reflection of my little boy.

 

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

The Case of the Wayward Fae is more fast paced and action packed than The Case of Jack the Nipper was in many respects. The main characters are well established, and so I was able to do more with them, pushing them to greater depths in this novel than I could in the first novel. There are moments which will leave you reeling from unanticipated twists and turns, yet I promise you, every time, you will find yourself coming back to discover what happens next. This manuscript has been thrilling to write, and I believe it will be equally thrilling to read.....or so says my muse Happydog.

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Here are the fabulous authors I’ve chosen to tell you about their Next Big Thing!

http://www.vickimtaylor.blogspot.com

http://www.gilagreenonline.com/

http://jacksmonster.wordpress.com/

http://www.angeladcoleman.com/

http://www.blackgirlguide.com/

http://www.sisterhoodagenda.com/

http://www.africanamericanmatchmaking.com/

http://www.chroniclesofhlstephens.blogspot.com/

http://www.susanspenceauthor.com/susan-spence-blog.html

http://bullseye-bullying.blogspot.com/

http://www.deborahteramischristian.com/

http://suebursztynski.blogspot.com.au/

http://quillstreetcafe.com/