Tag Archives: writing

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One Last Trip

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I’ve been away from here for a long time, I know. I decided to create a new website dedicated entirely to my published writing and it’s been a difficult process. Things have changed a great deal since I last posted here. I required a lot of help from both WordPress and Lulu “virtual assistants” and I paid money to hire people who knew more than me about marketing techniques. I’m sure hoping it will pay off. You can visit my new website at https://www.judylawlessauthor.com Be sure to add your comments and click the follow option.

Today I’m going to share a bit about one last trip I took the second week of July this year.

My son, who lives near Warsaw, Poland with his wife, Asia, has been wanting me to visit him. I decided in the spring this would be the year. I not only wanted very much to spend some time with them, I needed to step back from all the stress of getting the new website launched, and the constant busyness of maintaining our household.

I booked my flight and bought my medical/cancelation insurance one evening online. Sometime later my two daughters, Ann and Sarah decided they would meet me in Warsaw. I was so excited to see them all together again!

It had been over twenty years since I’d made an international trip on my own. I was a little nervous but determined to not let my age have any baring on my trip. I had three months to organize it, and the biggest issue was finding someone to look after my dog, Marlo, during my last weekend away, because Jim had decided to attend a Ukulele Festival that same weekend.

Jim dropped me off at Terminal One at the Toronto airport at 4:30 in the evening for me to catch my 7:30 fight. I easily found where I needed to check-in. Before I walked away from there, I was told I’d have to catch a bus to another Terminal on the other side of the runways. She told me how to find it. I was later told that was because the airline I’d chosen, at my son’s recommendation, the Polish Airline LOT, had it’s own terminal in Toronto. It was a minor inconvenience. It’s a good airline.

I had to show my boarding pass to get onto the bus. I showed my printed one.

I was one of the first to arrive, but before long there were many people crowding to find seats or at least something to hold onto. Many were visitors from India who didn’t speak English and didn’t care to acknowledge me. A large woman was wheeled in and placed in the seat next to me at the door. There wasn’t much room, but I did my best to stay out of her way while she complained to her companions. When the bus stopped at the new terminal, she was the first to get off. When she stood up, she stood on my foot, apparently unaware. I’d been looking for my Boarding Pass because it was gone from my hand. I began to panic, then I realized I had a digital copy of it on my phone, so I was okay. When the woman left the bus, I found said pass on the floor where her foot had been. I was so glad to get off that bus!

From there to my check-in gate was a long walk and we had an hour wait before boarding. There were constant announcements asking for people, mostly with unpronounceable names, to go to the gate desk to have their boarding pass checked. I thought I heard my name. I pulled my suitcase to the gate desk to check. I was told there were no issues with my pass, but still I was given a new printed one. The flight was late leaving, maybe because so much checking was taking time.

The line of people waiting to board seemed very long. I expected the plane to be full, but it was much larger than I’d anticipated. I had the whole centre section of my row to myself, technically. It was used by different people now and then when they wanted more space from their family. One young man who had been playing games on his phone, then slept for awhile, woke up looking for something. I eventually asked what he’d lost. I didn’t know if he’d speak English as most passengers didn’t. He told me it was his phone. I helped look between the seats and on the floor to no avail, but he eventually found it and thanked me for helping him look. I was impressed.

There was one small girl who was very demanding and screamed when she didn’t get what she wanted. Her mother paced up and down the aisle with her.

Dinner was served a couple of hours later and she quieted down for a bit. Most people were either watching the TV screen or trying to sleep. The girl awoke and started her screaming again. It went on and on. Her mother had a hard time with her, but I’m sad to say, she obviously had not been taught how to behave. She quieted sometime after midnight, and I got some sleep until she started again early in the morning. Oh well, it was time for breakfast.

A bit of an upset stomach worried me the rest of the trip, but it cleared up soon after I arrived in Warsaw. We were put onto another bus to go to the main terminal this time. Before I got off the bus I called Brendan to tell him I’d arrived, and he said he was waiting near the exit doors. Okay. I saw a sign to Exit but no direction given. I noticed a sign saying Border Security in front of a solid wall with one door that could have been an exit door. I tried to ask someone if I needed to go through there. They didn’t speak English, but a Border Security Officer approached and told me I should get into the line that said Canadian Only and present my passport. I followed his instructions. It took a bit of time for the attendant to check my passport and then I had to put my fingers into a scanner to record my fingerprints! That sure didn’t happen back in 1972 or even1999.

I was thrilled to find Brendan standing in the waiting area, watching for Sarah and Ann who should have arrived before me. We eventually got everyone together and Brendan led us outside, a fair distance from the terminal, to a place where pickups could be made, but they had to be timed. Asia was waiting and watching for us. She moved quickly to the pickup spot and told us we had to hurry. She had only seven minutes to stay there! We scurried to get our luggage into the back and squeeze ourselves into the car, pulling away just in time.

We got a glimpse of Warsaw as we travelled to the rental apartment Ann had booked for us. It had been a very long day!

It would take too long for me to describe all that we saw and did so I’m just going to say, we learned much we hadn’t known before about how Warsaw was treated by both Russia and Germany during both World Wars. Much of the devastation has been preserved around the rebuild of palaces and beautiful parks. We learned to find our way around on foot, on trolleys and underground trains. It’s enough to say, one week wasn’t enough time to see it all. At the end of each day, when the girls decided to go for one last walk, I crashed in my room and enjoyed a good night’s sleep.

I’m hoping I will be able to take Brendan up on his offer of my own suite in his new house, when I can go again for a longer visit.

Unknown's avatar

Publishing a Novel on a Shoestring Budget

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It’s been both exciting and stressful, creating my first fictional novel and deciding to publish it. I looked at different ways to self-publish, most requiring a bigger investment than I could even consider. I knew editing was important, but paying hundreds of dollars to have it done professionally, just wasn’t something I could do. I had no illusions that my first novel was going to become a major hit overnight. I had no justification for taking such a big risk.

I know I’m a pretty good editor. I often catch typos, or grammar errors when I read. I belonged to an online writing group where my editing tips were appreciated and I received many good tips for improving my own writing, including errors I’d missed.

So I began the first major edit of Being Grace by printing out all those useful tips, along with a paper copy of my draft, and spent several hours going through it to make all the fixes. My adult children all offered to do a read through for me, but they all live miles away from me, and they are very busy in their own lives, so it never happened.

I decided if I really wanted to get this published, I’d have to trust my own abilities and whatever other help came my way.

I spent a month editing, re-reading, editing some more, but alas, I became too anxious to get it published. I couldn’t read it one more time and see any more issues. I decided on a publisher.

Eleven years ago I’d self-published my second non-fiction book using Lulu Press, online. That book was only 124 pages, but it contained numerous pictures. My first one, published four years earlier, using the same program had been only 105 pages, with pictures. I remember at the time it was a bit daunting to figure out the application for submitting my work and it took a few tries to get a nearly perfect book that I could be proud to share with family and friends. We ended up giving many away as gifts, but, fortunately,  the cost wasn’t prohibitive.

Now, with this new book, a novel I hoped would find a larger audience, and contained three times as many pages, there was more money on the line. I again chose Lulu Press and I worried over getting it right. There were no pictures this time, other than the cover, but there were thousands of words of text.

The program had changed in twelve years. There were new options and ways to get things done, which were great, but required a new understanding.  Adding a link into the book content box was simple. Creating the cover was more complicated than I’d remembered, and I had a difficult time finding that eye-catching picture for the front.

The self-imposed deadline I’d set for myself, my birthday, was looming. Finally, I felt confident enough to send the completed project to Publish. I ordered a proof copy and waited. When it arrived, I gave it another quick perusal and then ordered a dozen copies. I was pleased to see shipping charges were considerably lower when ordered in bulk. I sold my first half dozen quickly, to friends from our Ukulele Band, and Pickleball Players. I got an offer from a local store owner to put some copies there for sale. She also offered to host a book signing! I was floating on cloud-nine.

I’d like to say it all went well from there on, but I have to admit, after several typos were pointed out to me, I felt more like a failure. It wasn’t perfect, and that’s always what I strive for. Knowing there were many great books published that weren’t perfectly without errors didn’t help. When I went back to compare the third proof copy with the first, which I’d marked up with changes, I still found things nobody had mentioned, this time with layout. It weighed on my mind that there were many copies already out there with errors, but, at last I’m now satisfied with the final result. I’ve had some great reviews and encouragement from those who have read it.

The final version is now available online, including at Amazon, in both paperback and e-book. I hope some of you will find it and read it. I’d love to hear what you think.

It takes a lot of learning, hard work and determination, but you can publish a good book on a shoestring budget if you put your mind to it. Marketing may be a little more challenging. 🙂

Look for my book at these web pages:

https://www.amazon.com/author/judylawless

https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/18718120.Judy_Lawless

https://www.lulu.com/spotlight/judy-lawless

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/being-grace-judy-lawless/1143334097

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A New Venture in Writing

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During Covid-19 I needed to find something else to occupy my time, since we weren’t able to travel, so I joined an online writers website and began submitting stories about our travels, and my life. I also read and reviewed the works of many fellow writers. I’d often wished I had the imagination to write a fiction novel, but always dismissed it. After following many such works on this site, I decided to take a chance. I had one fictional story, based on a tidbit of a story told to me years ago, so I decided to start there and see where it would go.

My first chapter was well received, but it was a month before I came up with the next one. With much encouragement from my fellow-writers, the plot began to develop. After two years, I had a complete draft. I chose to withdraw from posting on that site for now, and spend my time editing what I had.

I’m excited to say that my historical romance novel is now available to order on Lulu.com in both paperback and e-book.

I will also have them for sale from home, or possible book signings, for local audiences.

If you do read it, please consider leaving a review with Lulu or on this blog post.

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Memoir Monday – A Taste of Things to Come

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For the first time in several weeks, I have free time – no place I need to be, no deadlines, nobody waiting for me to perform a task. So I thought that I’d do some writing. But I’m not sure what I feel like writing about. I promised I’d do another blog post, but do I want to write about the things that have been keeping me so busy (and often stressed) since we arrived in Mesa Regal? Or do I want to re-establish my Memoir Monday theme?

I opened one of my memoir files and found a short piece of writing that could become the introduction to a Memoir. I’ve decided to share it with you, my readers to see what you think.

It started several years ago with an assignment in an online writing course that I was taking. We were to write a story using dialogue only, with an inanimate object in the room where we were writing.

Myoldoakdesk (2)

My Old Oak Desk

I’ve incorporated that concept into this introduction. I hope you’ll let me know how you like the style, and if the introduction makes you want to know more.

Personal Reinventions

Me:  Good morning Desk. Are you ready to inspire me today?

Desk:  Good morning Judy.  Sure, how can I help?

Me:  I need some writing ideas.  I’ve been thinking about how you came to be mine and how we’ve shared many a move.

Desk:  Yes, I remember.  You’ve dismantled me many times and left me wondering if I’d ever be whole again, or if you would finally abandon me like my previous owner.

Me:  You know there have been times when I almost did because you are so big and take up so much room in small places, but that’s one of the things I love about you.  I just had to find room for you.  It’s lucky that you can be disassembled and reassembled quite easily though.  You would never have fit through the doorways! Ha, ha.

********

The decision was made.  I could no longer take the emotional abuse.  I’d done my best to become what he seemed to want, but now his sights were set on something completely the opposite.  I’d spent nearly a year giving him his space, trying to figure out what I’d done wrong.  He gave me no answers.  He didn’t want to go for counseling.  He had no desire to save the marriage. There didn’t seem to be any hope left.  So we packed up what belongings I could take with me and piled them onto the back of the truck:  the old white iron bed from the room I’d been sleeping in lately, the one without the brass trim and newer mattress; a small chest of drawers that had been in our son, Brendan’s, room once.  It still had some pencil scribbles on the soft brown finish; the pine drop-leaf table that had been a wedding gift from my sister; four restored wooden kitchen chairs; the divan with the faded, blue-flowered cover, a recent yard-sale purchase.  It would fold out into a bed for Brendan when he came to visit; the old blue metal steamer trunk that held the bed and bathroom linens.  I sighed with regret that I could not take the big old oak desk.  I could sure use it for my studies, but there was no way that it would fit into the one bedroom apartment.  The little laminate one that Mom bought me would have to do.

In the awkward moment after the last box had been removed from the truck, he wished me luck, his eyes avoiding mine, and disappeared up the stairs, leaving Brendan behind to help me with the unpacking and setting up.  That was it then; twenty-two years of struggling through life together and this was how it would end. Well, best get on with it.

Brendan and I spent the next few hours organizing my space.  I wasn’t yet familiar with my new neighbourhood, but we found a convenience store where I picked up a few kitchen staples like bread and milk and juice.  Dinner was a sub from the snack bar.

“So what do you think?  How do you like my new digs?”

“Yeah, it’s cool.”

At fifteen, Brendan was a lad of few words even at the best of times. I wanted so much to reach inside to see how he was taking all of this, but the door was closed tight.  I’d given him the choice of moving with me, but silently agreed that it was for the best when he decided to stay on the farm with his father.  He had only two more years of high school left.  He was somewhat of a loner and giving up the few friends he had to start anew in an unfamiliar city would have been even harder on him.  Still my heart ached for him. The next day we drove the fifty miles back to the farm in near silence.  A quick hug and he was gone.  I sat for a minute and looked at the weathered boards on the addition to the old stone house.  I thought about the warmth and coziness of the fire in the stove, the restored old light fixtures we’d picked out at my father-in-laws antique shop, and the gleaming pine boards on the floor, all just inside the door where Brendan had entered.  All of it was gone from me now.

Brushing the tears from my cheeks, I shifted the car into drive and headed down the lane, beginning my return journey alone.

*******

I soon settled into my studies, and much to my surprise, I enjoyed it.  I’d never before been much of a scholar, barely getting by.  At the end of the first semester I was in the top ten of my class.  I made friends with a group of “mature” students, and we all supported each other. For a time I was even flattered by the attention of one of the male students who followed me around like a puppy dog.

Now, fifteen years later, I look back on those twenty-two years of my life as if I’m looking at someone else, and I recognize that the day I carried the last box down the stairs into that little apartment was the biggest turning point of my life. My Old Oak Desk can vouch for that!

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Announcing a Book Launch

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Today my post is  about another side of my writing. If you check out the other tabs on this site, you’ll see that I’ve done more than just travel blogging, but not so much lately. Now I’m excited to share this news with you.

This past summer I won a competition, at WomensMemoirs.com.

My story is one of the 81 winning stories that have been published in a two-volume anthology series entitled TALES OF OUR LIVES (Fork in the Road and Reflection Pond.) Mine, Seeking a Diagnosis,  is in TALES OF OUR LIVES: REFLECTION POND*.  Each volume is available on Amazon in Kindle e-book format, but you don’t need to have an e-reader or tablet to get them.  When you click on the link to purchase the books, you will find an option to download the free Kindle App for either your PC or MAC.

Book cover2

Beginning today, January 8 at 8 am (PST), and over the next few days, there will be special discount pricing for some countries, including the US, so if you  are interested in grabbing a copy, today and tomorrow might  get you a deal! Unfortunately Amazon doesn’t  allow these discounts in Canada, but even if you can’t get the special pricing, the full list price is quite reasonable–$5.22 in CA.)

Below are links to the books for Canada and the US. If  you would like the links for other countries, let me know and I’ll get them for you.

Seasons of Our Lives: Fork in the Road (Canada) amzn.to/1SyPM5q

*Seasons of Our Lives: Reflection Pond (Canada) amzn.to/1mEVE0s

Seasons of Our Lives: Fork in the Road (US) amzn.to/20VYNJq

*Seasons of Our Lives: Reflection Pond (US)amzn.to/1MQGKdk

For the writer within you, the editor has included the introduction to her new writing methodology (Writing Alchemy). If you’re thinking of writing about your life or the lives of others in your family, then you’ll want to read that chapter. She also begins each section with a series of prompts that will help you to think about your own life stories — stories you may want to share with your family.  These two writing tools help make these volumes even more than a good read. You get 81 powerful stories and 98 prompts.

And after you’ve read the stories (all 81 intriguing ones if you can), I hope you’ll feel inspired to post a comment, and write a review on Amazon.  I, and my co-authors would all appreciate it.

I just got word that Tales of Our Lives is already an award winning anthology, New England Book Festival, Honourable Mention!

Click on the tab Writing/Books to see other books, and Awards and Reviews.