JP McLean

Writing Addictive Fiction

Impulse Purchase

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Impulse Purchase

We were at Liquidation World* last week because we heard they had good prices on airless wheelbarrow tires. It seems our current wheelbarrow tire makes a better sprinkler than a tire (something to do with an excess of wild rose thorn holes).

I know you’re thinking well then, don’t you already have an airless tire? Indeed we do, but the variety my husband sought was sponge-like and wouldn’t ever leak again and require his attention.

Anyway, I digress.

While the husband checked out airless tires, I spotted a beautiful blue/green pot I thought would look nice on our front porch. (We don’t need a pot that would look nice on our front porch.) But it sported a neon SALE sticker and the blue/green colour went well with the new siding.

But there was no price on the pot. So with the husband otherwise occupied, I inquired as to the lovely blue/green pot’s, SALE price. While the clerk looked it up, I considered how much I’d pay for a blue/green pot we don’t need even if it does match the new siding.

Then the clerk said it was just $35.00.

Oh dear! Now I had a dilemma. Not only was the lovely blue/green pot (that we didn’t need) reasonably priced—some would say cheap, but the clerk informed me that it wasn’t just a lovely pot. It was a lovely pot that included a water feature; one of those numbers with the bamboo spout and a wee pump the size of your thumb. I imagined a tiny pond; something into which you could drop a lily pad or some other aquatic plant (which I know nothing about).

Water-feature ceramic pot

How could I resist? The husband didn’t even roll his eyes when I handed over the cash. He then trundled our new blue/green fountain pot—that we don’t need—out to the truck.

It’s now situated on the porch. It’s been washed, filled with water and, I’m happy to report, sounds just like a tiny babbling brook. I closed my eyes and smiled, picturing a forest creek with river rocks and overhanging boughs dripping moss…

And then it hits me…

Don’t we already have running water from October through April? Of course we do – we live in a rain forest. It rains a lot. In fact, isn’t that babbling brook of a pump reminiscent of the water that dribbles through our gutters and into our downspouts for most of the year?

What was I thinking? As I write this post, I can hear the water in the pretty blue/green pot babbling away. It sounds like someone is peeing on the porch. Forget the lily pad – I’m going to buy some soil and pot up something quiet and dry. A cactus appeals to me for some reason.

Do you have an impulse purchase you want to fess up to?

 

All of my books are available for purchase on the Bookstore Tab.

 

*Liquidation World has since closed 🙁

Time Thief

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A collection of clocks

Time Thief

There’s a thief in my neighbourhood. He’s been lurking around the house and in the garden. At first I didn’t notice, the thefts were merely minutes here and there, but now glaring holes gape where time used to be.

Some days I wonder how I spent all that time before I discovered writing.

Last week disappeared in the snap of a finger as I completed work on the second proof of Revelation. And that theft came on the heels of a whirlwind that ate up weeks while I finished the latest draft of Redemption. Snippets of time evaporated over a half-finished press release, a draft email announcement, and countless Internet searches.

Last night I wandered around the gardens with a glass of wine in my hand and was distracted by their sorry state of neglect. I used to spend hours each day yanking weeds, deadheading, pruning or digging in compost. There’s no end of things to do in a garden. It was never a chore until writing pushed it out of the way.

Where did the time go?

The same can be said for projects around the house. A bolt of fabric I intended to make into deck cushions three years ago lingers out of sight in a closet. Water stains from a skylight leak that happened two years ago glare down at my writing perch.

Even day-to-day chores get put off. The vacuum only comes out when I can write my name in the debris on the floor. Running out of underwear is the new gauge for when laundry gets done, and it’s only the threat of a neighbour dropping by that gets me out of pyjamas. And don’t even get me started on cooking. That old passion has taken a back seat right next to gardening.

How did my life get so busy? I used to enjoy leisure time. Now I can’t remember what leisure time felt like. It seems I’ve caught the full-on version of the writing bug. It has me in its grip and won’t let go. I really need to work on this thing called balance.

And on that note, I must go and kill me a weed, but I’ll be back.

What steals your time?

 

You can purchase of my books on the Bookstore Tab.

 

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Cover Art Quest

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Washington Coast
Washington State Coastline

Cover Art Quest

There’s little slack time in this business. If you’re not writing a book, you’re writing a blog post, tweeting a thank you, or updating your Facebook page. There are publisher’s proofs to review, blog tours to schedule, press releases won’t write themselves, and book covers need to be designed. As much as I would love to spend all my days writing, this business is more complex than that. Many other chores demand a piece of my time.

On the Road Again

JP with Molly in California

Happily, most of those chores can be done from the road, which is where I am. It’s familiar territory for me having spent so many winters “heading south.” This week I’m driving down the Pacific coast with my husband, John, and our sweet Molly to find the perfect photo inspiration for the cover of Book III, Redemption.

Cover art is an important component of any book. It has the potential to either draw people in or send them scurrying. For better or worse*, from the very start, I’ve had a strong opinion of what the visual should be for my books. It’s always been the beach.

The beach plays a critical role in all three books.

In Awakening, the beach is a cruel mistress that serves as the setting for imparting the gift, awakening it, and finally, setting it free.  In Revelation, the beach serves as a reminder of where it all began, and then plays hand maiden to the larger story that occurs within metres of that same beach. The beach is also an important element in Redemption.

Viona Halim is the talented graphic artist who painted the first two covers. She did a wonderful job creating not only compelling water colours, but also capturing the ominous mood that prevails in the books.

The book cover for Redemption will be in keeping with the trilogy’s mood, which is still dark and mysterious, but this time it will reflect the very unique cliff face and low vegetation typical to Bodega Bay, California, which is where a pivotal scene takes place. And that’s what brings me here. It’s a cover art quest. I need to get some photos of these beaches for Viona to work with.

Cover Reveal

The cover for Book II is about to be revealed. Keep your eyes peeled because just after the cover reveal, Revelation will be released. I can’t wait.

As an aside, this is our first road trip without Molly’s half-sister, Soozie. They travelled extensively with us since 2000. It seems strange to be making this journey without her – as if a book end is missing.

*Update: in 2018, the heavy hand I had in book cover design proved fatal. Read more about the rebrand here.

How NOT to Market a Book

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Vancouver Skyline

How NOT to market a book

I made a rare visit to Vancouver last week.  It gave me an excuse to wear heels and “city clothes.” It also gave me an opportunity to practice the elevator pitch for my book.

I’m an introvert.

Marketing is outside my comfort zone. However, when you publish a book, if you want people to discover it, you have to market it. That’s why I keep a supply of business cards at hand. I use them as an opening to talk up the book when I’m out and about.

Last week, I met my sister-in-law downtown and we poked in and out of stores for most of the afternoon.  While we shopped, I handed out a few cards to sales clerks who looked like they might be in my target readership. Their quick smiles and easy acceptance boosted my confidence.

At just past six, we called it a day and stopped for a drink and to rest our feet before heading back to her place. We settled into a comfortable window seat in a busy bar in an old hotel on Georgia Street. Our waiter was an interesting young man who took the time to make sure we had the perfect drinks. He shared his personal history in the bar business and checked on us often. The service was a real treat and I was enjoying my visit to the big city.

Buoyed by happy endorphins and confident that our waiter would be receptive, I decided to give him my book pitch on his next visit to our table. I reasoned that even if an urban fantasy thriller didn’t appeal to him, he might have a girlfriend or sister who would be interested.

As he approached our table, I held out my card. He frowned as he took it, and before I could explain myself, we were interrupted. He half turned as he spoke to the person who’d interrupted, and jammed my card into a pocket. I watched him morph from our relaxed, happy-go-lucky waiter to a visibly stiffened young man shuffling from one foot to the other. He finished his conversation then quickly excused himself and beetled away before I could deliver my elevator pitch.

He never came back.

I didn’t catch on at first, mostly because I’m daft. And then a completely different employee came by to present our bill. I looked around for our waiter and spied him on the far side of the room serving another section. That’s when it dawned on me: He thought I was trying to pick him up.

At first, I was just embarrassed about the misunderstanding. But then the reality sunk in: He’d literally run from our table. Talk about a humiliating eye-opener. Suddenly, it was me who couldn’t exit fast enough.

Apparently, I’ve officially entered cougar country. I must say, it’s not my favourite place.  It takes the shine off of all kinds of delusions that I was rather fond of.

In future, I’ll be more careful about handing out business cards – especially in bars. My ego might not be able to take another mad dash from a handsome young man with his pants on fire.

Want to know how I got into this mess? Check out How it Started.