Girl Power

I’m a proud #boymom. My three boys are my world. From clothes to shoes to toys, our house is all BOY. And I wouldn’t change it for anything. Sure, before children, I imagined raising a daughter. One with curly hair. Someone I could share all my hard-learned girl truths with. I defy any woman who denies feeling the same. But now, I couldn’t imagine life without these boys. And they couldn’t either. They wouldn’t know what to do with a sister.

“Our house would be infused with PINK!” once was said — the P word sneering from his mouth.

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And this doesn’t include cleats. There’s a separate bin for that.

When Christmas commercials are in season, we tease about getting My Little Pony and Twinkle Toes and LaLaLoopsy for each other. Even I’m guilty of that.

But pink has always been my favorite color.

Yesterday, our middle asked, “Who are you voting for for President?”

“Hillary Clinton.”

“But we can’t have a GIRL president!”

“Why not?”

“She’ll make us wear girly clothes and play with Barbies!”

“No she wouldn’t. Why would you say that?”

“Because she makes all the rules and all the laws.”

“Well, did President Obama make me wear a suit and tie and play with trucks?”

We all laughed, but my words felt a bit hollow. The reverse isn’t the same. I’m in a boy world. They’ve seen me play with plenty of toy trucks. I may not wear a suit and tie but I assure you I’m not in a dress every day, either. Come to think of it, it’s all a boy’s world. Historically, we girls have had to fight for equal rights and equal pay and equal opportunity. And “pink” isn’t the problem.

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When my husband gets into one of his teasing jags, my standard comeback is: “You needed a little sister growing up to get all this out of your system.”

Growing up with three brothers, my husband has the boy thing down. He’s like the boy whisperer — able to get to the root of a rotten day or hurt feelings or big-world worries. However, judging from how protective he is of me, a little girl may have given him a run for his money.

My brother and I grew up sharing each other’s perspective. Throughout the confusing puberty years, I know we helped each other quite a bit. When a girl didn’t reciprocate his crush, I think I was able to make it a little better. When a boy on the bus stuck his fingers up my nose, it was my brother who explained that he actually liked me. (Not a good strategy, BTW). We’ve always been able to talk about things we’d never discuss with our parents. Maybe this is why he is now keenly sensitive about girl stuff. He can discuss menstrual cramps or bra-fitting issues with the objectivity of a registered nurse. And he actually looks really good in pink. Oh, excuse me — salmon.

I know firsthand sisters can teach brothers stuff moms can’t. Yikes.

My boys need more GIRL in their lives!

I pledge right now to communicate with my boys — about everything. As uncomfortable it may be, I will tell them what boobs are really for, what a thing called a tampon is, and why girls might send cryptic messages through their girlfriends like modern-day carrier pigeons. And goldarnit, they will feel okay with all of it.

If it comes to be, they will feel okay with a woman president.

No, my boys won’t have a sister. It’s a little late in the game to try again.

But I will vote for Hillary.

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Marathon Monday

The Boston Marathon will always be a profound event in our lives. Today, we pause to think of our friends Bill and Denise as they continue to cope with unimaginable tragedy. Here at home, we remember my husband Anthony running for Team MR8 in 2014 — my emotional tribute can be found here.

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I admire my husband for countless reasons. His running the marathon for the Martin Richard Foundation was one of the most memorable and touching events of our years together. Recently, we’ve learned that it was a miracle he was able to run at all.

This past November, excruciating shooting pain down his right leg led us to several doctor’s appointments. X-rays followed. Then, a diagnosis: Spondylolisthesis. Essentially, the base of his spine — his L5 — is out of place. Like a train car that slid off its tracks. Take a look for yourself:

Spondylolisthesis

This condition is usually caused by trauma, like a car accident. That doesn’t apply to Anthony. Doctors believe he was born with it and it’s gotten worse over time. High impact activities — i.e. RUNNING — aggravate and exacerbate the problem.

While training for the marathon, Anthony had chronic pain down his leg, which we attributed to his IT band. He had a roller and specific stretches to help, but mostly, he just ran through the pain.

Let me say that again: He ran through the pain. This wasn’t a pulled muscle or cramp. This is a spinal chord injury. He ran through nerve pain. When his doctors heard he had run a marathon — the Boston Marathon no less — with this condition, they were shocked.

With the diagnosis, Anthony was told he would never be able to run again. For most people, that might not be a big deal. For us, it was. It is. It wasn’t only a form of exercise, it was a lifestyle. It was therapeutic. More than once, it was a spiritual experience. With three young boys and a high-stress career, running was an efficient and easy way for Anthony to keep in shape. Not to mention — fun. Running races of all distances was something we both looked forward to continuing for years to come. How many times had he told me: “I can’t wait to run a 5K with the boys.” Some of you might know the story: Anthony proposed to me after a run. How much more significant can a form of exercise get?

Hey, let’s be real. This is not the end of the world. We know how lucky we are in so many ways — our overall good health, our entire family’s well-being is intact. We are beyond blessed. This back thing stinks, sure. But we’re staying positive. We hope to avoid surgery. We’re managing the pain that we know now will never go away, but hopefully will not worsen. Anthony’s taking this opportunity to try new things, like yoga — yay! So far, it hasn’t hurt his golf game —whew! Hopefully, he can find something close to that runner’s high again.

This is another reason why Marathon Monday will always be bittersweet for us. But ask Anthony if he has any regrets about running the Boston Marathon in 2014, raising over $25k for the Martin Richard Foundation, and he would not hesitate. The answer would be a resounding no.

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We were the team

“As a grown woman, did you find it hard to convey the psyche of high school girls?” – at today’s book club via FaceTime.

I choked up giving my answer.

In Forte, Sami is included in the “in crowd” when she magically becomes a stellar athlete and makes the volleyball team.

FORTE IN CROWD, cast list

Carolyn once thought to be a romantic rival for Sami’s crush, she’s honest and caring.

Maddie the Uber popular chick, clearly the leader — setting trends and standards for the group’s collective behavior.

Thalia her biggest fan, her spaniel, the follower. Plain vanilla.

Shaunie the pretty, helpful one — gently showing Sami the ropes. Her mom runs the carpool.

Jess the bully — ruthless in her pursuit of getting Sami to push the boundaries.

Sami the newbie — tries to distinguish right from wrong when neither path is clear. Doesn’t know who to trust. Even herself, at times.


I recently moved back to my hometown after over twenty years of being away. Suddenly, I’m running into high school acquaintances at school pickup and grocery checkout, farmer’s market and ice cream queues. Seeing these people I grew up with but still don’t know very well is a strange phenomenon. And makes me consider who I might be to them.

High school is no walk in the park for anyone. Even those who are lucky enough to be in the “in crowd” (that would be me), were entangled in confusing high school politics.

For example (true story): a “good” friend ridiculed me in the cafeteria to such an extent, I hid in the nurse’s office crying my eyes out for the entire next period. That’s just one example.  And I was one of the lucky ones.

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Can you find me? Hint: my hands are in the air.

My bestie since kindergarten and I were talking about all this recently. I took in a deep breath and told her: “We were the team.”

She knew what I meant. She read the book. “No, we weren’t.”

“Yes, I think we were.” But what I should’ve said was: “Well, I think I was.”

Each of my team characters is a part of me as a young girl. As well-liked as I may have been, I know I didn’t always make it easy for some. Perhaps, albeit subtlety, I left others out. At the time, I thought I was nice to everyone. I know with everything in me that I didn’t mean to be mean — ever. But I would put money on the fact that I made some people feel bad, just by being who I was.

Not easy to admit.

This post will piss some people off, maybe. Some will vehemently disagree. “We loved high school!”

Let me be clear: I like who I am. I’m proud of the person I am. It will shock those who know me to learn I was actually really shy as a young girl. My childhood was a blessing in countless ways, and has shaped who I am today. We are all, as grown individuals, a collection of our experiences. We can’t choose to keep only the good ones.

When the time comes, I only hope I can help my sons navigate high school in a healthy way. As I say to them in my acknowledgments: Let (Forte) give you insight into the complex behaviors of teenage girls. Remember to be kind to them in high school.

*Update: March 25, 2016*

Writing this post unleashed some tough memories that have been keeping me up the past few nights. This morning, my husband challenged my idea that we are a collection of our experiences. He believes that experiences are finite and don’t define who we are. We talked about the Looking Glass Self — the social psychological concept that claims we define ourselves as others see us.

“How much pressure would we put on ourselves if that were true?” he said.

Some of us hold onto our negative pasts so tightly, it holds us back from moving forward. The consequences are detrimental. Clinging to the past won’t allow us to  achieve our full potential, or follow our dreams, or simply believe in ourselves.

I have always been the person I am today. The person I’m proud of. I refuse to be crippled by hurtful memories or how I might think others perceive me — now or back then. I’ve always had it in me to be the wife, mother, daughter, sister that I am today.

The next time I run into someone from high school, instead of getting sucked into a time warp back to 1991, I will show that person who I am today. Maybe we’ll become friends. Maybe not. But I will be true to myself.

Happy EVERYTHING!

When I was single, living and working in Boston, holidays were strange. Unless my parents came to visit, it was uneventful. I didn’t decorate my apartment with stuff only I would see. What was the point? If there wasn’t a celebration at work, I didn’t celebrate. I remember feeling slightly annoyed around most holidays. Sometimes sad. Maybe a bit lonely. For most of them, I wanted to hit fast forward. Get on with regular life.

When I met my husband, things changed. When we went to get our first Christmas tree together, he brimmed with contagious, joyous enthusiasm. He had a this-is-what-life’s-all-about attitude I found intriguing and admirable. I was envious! I wanted to be like him. I still strive to. Then, we entered a whole new holiday level when the kids came. I can sum it up in one word: FUN! I defy anyone to remain a Grinch while celebrating with little ones.

Even if it does put some added pressure on Mom.

Today is St. Patrick’s Day. Last night, social media suggested I was Slacker Mom. More than one mom friend had made a homemade leprechaun trap. Leprechaun traps? With three young boys in my house, I have *never once* made a leprechaun trap. I scrambled — and redeemed myself by tucking some leftover chocolate coins (from Valentine’s Day, maybe?) under my boys’ pillows. Whew.

But this morning, my Facebook feed is overloaded with photos of kids in green. Not just green — coated with shamrocks. Glitter. Facepaint. Tattoos. Beaded jewelry. The whole bit. I had to scrounge to find clean green shirts for my boys. And they’re only somewhat green, with stripes and logos in the way. Clearly not made for St. Patty’s day. *Sigh*

That old irritation crept back. I couldn’t help it. What was the point?

Now, in honor of my late Grandmom Honey, I have to acknowledge my Irish heritage — even if it’s less than 10% of my genetic makeup. (But, hey, who’s 100% anything anymore. We’re all mutts here in America. Right, Trump?)

It’s not that I don’t approve of celebrating all things Irish. That’s fine. But really, isn’t something lost with all the green and shamrocks and stuff? I mean, are my kids even talking about what St. Patrick’s Day means in school? Or are they just looking for that magical rainbow?

Wikipedia says St. Patrick’s Day “commemorates Saint Patrick and the arrival of Christianity in Ireland, and celebrates the heritage and culture of the Irish in general.”

Tonight, while we’re drinking green beer and eating boiled dinners, will we toast the actual Saint Patrick? Heck, I’m partly Irish and I’m not completely sure what “Irish culture” really is. How would I expect my kids to celebrate it?

I’m at the public library working on my book, watching moms and toddlers waltz in in their best green. The librarians are decked out, too. I’m zoned in on my screen, part of me wishing for the fast-forward button. (I mean, Easter is right around the corner and I need to get the freakin’ baskets done.)

Out of the blue, one of the green-clad librarians approaches. I tense, expecting a lecture about having water bottles in the library. She isn’t here to reprimand me.

“Happy St. Patrick’s Day,” she whispers, and places an Andes chocolate mint candy by my computer.

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Happy trio: My illegal water bottle, my Andes candy, and my computer.

Oh! My insides do a little flip. I actually laugh out loud. “Thank you!” (I don’t whisper.)

Suddenly, everything turns around. My attitude flips like a switch. A warm feeling comes over me, like a big hug of pure gratitude.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!

What’s my problem? If this “holiday” is an excuse for people to wear an unflattering color and try their best Liam Neeson accent — so what? Why not celebrate this day? Why not celebrate EVERY day? Let’s be happy for whatever reason. Be happy for NO reason! Make that Resting Bitch Face a Resting Smile Face! Eat chocolate in the morning — just because!

The sun is shining. It’s a beautiful day. I bet if we all look hard enough, we’ll find that magical rainbow has been right under our Irish noses all along.

Now if you’ll excuse me. I have a chocolate mint to eat. Just because.

Don’t break my heart

I was a grumpy mom this morning. Boring details aside, little things were getting to me. A speed-bump in my writing. Home appliance headaches resulting in big plumbing bills. “You’re mean!” — when I wouldn’t let my 8 or 5 y/o bring their Kindles to school. And, of course, the nauseating political stuff.

The boys had an hour delay. My vision of a leisurely breakfast and game of Candy Land never came to fruition. Unhinged from our routines, the hour was spent mostly waiting. The boys had never been so eager to get to the bus stop.

Lunches packed, I helped them into their coats and backpacks. My second-grader, as he likes to do, took off on his own. I allow this sliver of independence after ensuring he would always do it safely. Staying on the side of the road, not only looking for cars but being aware of them — always. We don’t live on a super busy street. And he likes to slide on a frozen puddle (the last of its kind this winter) near the bus stop. Why not let him have a few minutes of outside play?

My Kindergartener always waits for me. (Or, I’m usually the one waiting for him.) We walk hand in hand down the street, together. Every day.

Today, he surprised me. As I scrambled into my coat, he was off — following his big brother. He was gone before I had a chance to register what he was doing. Still, I wasn’t worried. Until I spotted him down the street — in the middle of the street — running in that carefree way kids do, thinking they’re invincible.

“Get to the side!” I called, zipping my coat as I went out.

A car was stopped in front of my house. The driver rolled down his window. “He came barreling down, right into the street. I had to slam on my breaks.”

Two sentences. Everything turned on its head.

I blinked at him. My jaw dropped. I had no idea.

“Oh, no. Sorry,” I blurted, embarrassed and horrified — processing his words.

I ran to the corner, took my little guy aside and tried to tell him. Tried explaining how serious it could’ve been. I only had a minute, tops. Can this lesson be taught in less than a minute?

“Don’t break my heart.” I said, as the bus chugged around the corner. “If anything ever happened to you, I would cry forever. I would *never* stop crying.”

Did he hear me? Did he get it? I can only hope . . .

Tears filled as I waved goodbye. We said our “love yous” and the bus pulled away. I held it together until I got back to the house, where I sobbed into my hands — “what if” scenarios crowding my mind.

All that shit from before. All those worries that made me grumpy this morning? That’s nothing. I don’t give a crap about writer’s block or padded plumbing bills or stupid things an eight-year-old might say to his mother. Bozo the Clown could be the next GOP nominee, for all I care.

My world came crashing into focus. What’s important front and center:

My boys.

Firstborn love

Twice today, I got smiling news from an acquaintance: “I just finished your book!”

Grinning back, I replied, “Which one?”

I know, I know. I am beyond blessed to have to ask that question — which one? — and there was a long, hard, rejection-laden time when I thought I’d never have any book published. No less two.

Catcher’s Keeper.”

Really? Joy ebbed from every pore. Catcher’s Keeper, my firstborn book, still bringing smiles to readers. Through a brief Q&A over our yoga mats, I was transported back to that story. My story. And I was reminded how much I love it.

Since my second release — Forte — in July, my firstborn has been neglected. Gone are the blog tours, the speaking engagements, the interviews… I’ve been busy promoting my newbie. Isn’t that the way it works?

But my passion for my firstborn book hasn’t changed.

We mothers can relate, can’t we?

My first son was almost two when he became a brother. Busy with a new baby, nursing every few hours, swaddling, rocking, burping, changing, pacifying… I had little time to play with my number one. My husband picked up lots of parenting tasks I’d been proud to list as my “Mom” job description. They played games and went out to fun places while I tended to the new baby. I mean, he was brand new! He NEEDED me! And goldarnit if I didn’t love him *just as much* as my firstborn. For the first few weeks and beyond, my husband and I had to “divide and conquer” as they say. But letting go was not an option. I missed my big guy. Our firstborn made us a family. He made me a mother. My life forever changed when he came into the world. He showed me a love I didn’t know I was capable of feeling. After number two was born, after number three was born, and now as he matures into an active young man with a life of his own — a physical distance may grow between us, but my love for him remains steadfast.

A mother’s love for her babies never wanes. It can’t be split or divided. It’s exponential.

Even if our energies are redirected, that bond is always there.

A few weeks ago on a school visit, my host escorted me to a classroom and said, “We ordered 30 copies of your book. So, every class will have a chance to read Catcher’s Keeper.”

“Oh, great!” I replied, hiding my surprise. I’d planned a presentation for Forte that day. Cue the proverbial tap dance in front of the classroom to talk about my firstborn book. Good thing my passion for Catcher’s Keeper is as strong as it was upon publication.

What a gift it was to talk about it again. How I’d missed it!

I’d been so passionate about the concept of Catcher’s Keeper — What if Holden Caulfield were around when John Lennon was shot? — I couldn’t get a good night’s sleep until I had the first draft down. I was obsessed. I couldn’t stop thinking about the story. I couldn’t believe no one had written it yet. I thought agents and publishers would be knocking down my door for a piece of the action. (That last part didn’t happen, BTW). And then, when Forte was in its final stages prior to publishing, that story was all-consuming. I lived and breathed the words. When it was finally out there, I wanted to promote it as well as I could. It deserved that. All books deserve readers. And goldarnit if I didn’t love Forte *just as much* as I loved my firstborn book.

Well, almost.

Catcher’s Keeper will always hold a special place in my heart. It’s what made me an author. It changed my life.

But don’t get me wrong, when it comes to matters of the heart, my family — my boys — have a monopoly on my love.

Kingdom City author on writing

Recently, we saw the exciting cover reveal of KINGDOM CITY: REVOLT — the gripping sequel to the dystopian thriller KINGDOM CITY: RESURRECTION. Don’t you love getting lost in a good series? Don’t you wonder how authors keep us wanting more — book after book? Today we talk with author Ben Ireland and celebrate the release of the second in his series. Be sure to enter the awesome giveaway, too!

First, about REVOLT . . .

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If you missed the first in the sequel, check it out: KINGDOM CITY: RESURRECTION.

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Now, let’s hear from Ben about his writing process:

What is your preferred writing genre?

I lean towards fantasy, especially urban fantasy. I get a rush when someone isn’t only smart enough to solve their problems, but they can also solve them with fire. Lots and lots of magically invoked fire.

When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

I’ve always loved creating. Probably the worst thing that happened to me is when I took a creative writing class in college. The professor told me that my story was the best thing he’d read “in a long time.” I’ve been spiraling since then. That story ended up being a scene of Kissed a Snake, in Xchyler’s A Dash of Madness short story anthology.

Where do you actually write? Do you write on a schedule?

We recently moved and I managed to get an office in the new house. It’s actually a storage closet. But it has a map of Kingdom City on the wall and Slifer the Sky Dragon above my desk, so that’s all I need.

I don’t have a specific time to write. I’m still on the ‘wait until the kids fall to sleep and write until I fall to sleep’ schedule.

What is your writing drive? What keeps you going when writing gets difficult?

My brain is full of story ideas and it hurts when I don’t let them out. Writing isn’t a choice, it’s a compulsion.

What is your advice to writers?

Figure out who to listen to and who to ignore. If you don’t have people in your life who challenge your creative work, then you’re handicapping yourself. Peter Jackson and George Lucas stopped listening to people that challenged them, and the result is the Hobbit movies and Star Wars episode 1-3. No matter how successful you get, listen to your trusted critics.

What’s up next for you?

Kingdom City part3. Working title is Retribution. The original working title was Redemption, but that sounded way too optimistic for Kingdom City.  

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Bookminder author on writing

Today we’re talking about writing with author M.K. Wiseman — whose novel BOOKMINDER is fresh off the press. So many readers want to know about the writing process, which is different for every author. I love hearing from authors who not only build a captivating story but also include elements of magic and fantasy. Don’t forget to enter the giveaway — 3 $20 B&N gift cards! Before we get to the Q&A, here’s a bit about the book:

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Let’s hear from the author about her writing process.

How did you come up with the concept of your story?

In 2004 I had a very vivid dream that, afterward, wouldn’t leave me alone. Said dream basically detailed out one scene from the story, something so different and captivating for me that it stuck. Now, it must be noted that I was not writing at that time, nor did I intend to write in any professional capacity. But as this one nugget of an idea would not let me be, I started to form a story around it – Why were these people doing what they were doing? Who were they?

I think that working in the Preservation Dept of the campus library system had bled into my subconscious and that is where the magick system that rules The Bookminder developed.

When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

That was a sort of slow shift for me. I mean, I started writing pieces of significant length in 2004 but really did so without any specific “I want to be a writer” aim. I was just compelled to try it out, I suppose. At that time, what I really wanted to be (and still do!) was/is an animator. But both are storytellers so it’s not that big a leap. I think I finally knew what I wanted when it came clear to me that my work is actually publishable. Then I found that I had a burning desire to keep going with it, wanting to add to libraries rather than just “worship” them as a reader.

Given unlimited resources, what would be your ideal writing environment?

Before you read this answer, remember this question cites unlimited resources. . . My answer presumes unlimited patience from my family, as well. That said, there are a handful of places that I’ve been that would be really interesting places to write and it’d be lovely to have access to each as the impulse takes me. Ideally, I’d like to take a bit of time and write from Santa Fe, NM, up where even the heady smell of books pales in comparison to the piñon-sweet air. I’d like some time in Boston by the gas light district. I’d like to try to write an entire novel while sailing from Point A to Point B . . . I think keeping things fresh and adventurous is my ideal.

Where do you actually write? Do you write on a schedule?

I actually spend a lot of my writing time in a big, orange, overstuffed armchair. Or, if I need a little more ‘action’ around me, I head off to a coffee shop to immerse myself in a slice of Life. As for any sort of schedule, I don’t have set hours or word counts or anything—that tends to mess with my muse’s office hours. Sometimes there are publishing deadlines to keep but that’s as tangibly schedule-y as I get.

What is your writing drive? The power that keeps you going when your writing gets difficult?

Deadlines. 🙂 More seriously, though, early on I feared that I’d only ever have One Good Idea. I now have a pile of “Work in Progress” manuscripts sitting on my hard drive and they cover a host of different genres and intended audiences. It is now almost impossible for me to hit a wall because of the breadth of those projects. So if I bump up against something in a project that seems unsolvable, I take a step back and work on something else until I lose my frustration at the first roadblock. I do admit that it takes some discipline to keep from bouncing aimlessly between projects. So my power is persistence, even if it involves a writing detour.

How does writing impact other parts of your life?

I tend to get a little lost in my worlds. My work follows me home because it lives there. That’s been a bit of an adjustment, defining borders of when and when not my brain can go to work. If I allowed it, I’d probably just work continuously without sleeping, eating, and whatnot, just because I have the ideas. I have awoken in the middle of the night and hastily hid myself in another room to type out a quick story outline before it flees into that sleepy realm of forgotten ideas.

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School-Wide Read

Some really good energy happening on the Forte front!

Recently, I got word that Forte was the winner of this year’s school-wide read at my alma mater, Lake George Junior/Senior High School. Hooray!

LG School Wide Read Winner

LG School Wide Read Winner 2015

I reached out to the school’s librarian to learn how exactly my book was chosen. Her response:

Every year during our Teen Read celebration at the high school I select 4 books, which fit with our theme for that year’s celebration. This year we celebrated Teen Read Week with Bookopoly, and an exploration of genres, so I selected books from all different genres.  We then share a “voting ballot” with students.  The voting happens during Guideroom, and the ballot includes a “hook question” for each title.  We then tally the votes to decide our “School Wide Read” for the year.  This year it was Forte that students selected, which gives us an ideal platform for your visit.

The fact that *students* picked the book made the news even sweeter. We’re working on a date for an author visit in May.

In the meantime, there are some cool local events coming up.

December 21: Queensbury High School author visit. My mom taught at Queensbury for 25 years and my children go to school in the district, so I’m looking forward to this one. Three sessions are booked for the day, with a holiday luncheon in between.

January 7, 2016: author visit Southern Adirondack Education Center, Hudson Falls, NY. As a follow up to my visit at Myers Center in Saratoga, an attending teacher requested I come to this BOCES facility for another two sessions. Students have expressed interest in both Catcher’s Keeper and Forte, so we will be discussing both.

January 8, 2016: author visit to William H. Barton Intermediate School. I’ll be visiting my son’s classroom, reading a scene of his choice from Forte — the halloween scene.

January 12, 2016: Authors & Artists, Samantha’s Cafe, Glens Falls, NY *open to the public*. In May of 2014, I presented as part of Samantha’s Authors & Artists program for Catcher’s Keeper — to a full house. Now at a new location on the main drag of Glens Falls, Samantha’s Cafe has always been exceptionally supportive of the local arts. Love them for that.

June 1, 2016: guest speaker Academy for Lifelong Learning, SUNY Empire State College. This came through a connection at the Chronicle Book Fair on November 8. I’ll be part of their 8-week spring speaker series, presenting to adults about how life experiences inform fiction writing.

One of my goals for 2016 is to get my latest novel — Paradox Lake — agented and/or contracted for publication. It’s in the beta-reader phase now … and so far all responses have been very positive.

All this is great, but the acknowledgment and support from my alma mater has really made my holiday. It will be neat to walk those familiar halls not as a student or teacher or parent … but as the author of the Winner of the School-Wide Read.

 

 

KINGDOM CITY: REVOLT cover reveal

New release by Xchyler Publishing — the 2nd in the KINGDOM CITY dystopian thriller series.

Kingdom City by Ben Ireland

The gripping sequel to KINGDOM CITY: RESURRECTION

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About Author Ben Ireland

Ben Ireland

Ben churns out his prose from his home in Southeast Texas, where he lives with his wife and three children, and works in IT. When he isn’t writing, he’s either thinking about writing, or he’s driving his wife insane talking about his novel ideas. His work has appeared in two X-anthologies: “Kissed a Snake” in A Dash of Madness: a Thriller Anthology (July 2013), and “Fairykin” in Moments in Millennia: a Fantasy Anthology(January 2014). His first novel, Kingdom City: Resurrection was published in February 2014.