Chapter 3: All My Days Are Saturdays

Posted on October 3, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Welcome to my Second Acts Series!

Today, we have Barb Taub inspiring and entertaining us with her version of HEA (Happily-Ever-After), or more precisely HFN (Happily-For-Now), and a Second Act (Chapter 3) jam-packed with Saturdays.

Here’s Barb!

Once Upon a Time

Chapter 1

A girl met her prince. He was tall, dark, and handsome. (Actually, he was a Republican. But he was definitely tall.) They fell in love, and got married.

Chapter 2

He brought her to his (rented) castle and they lived happily ever after.

Okay, so thirty years of life happened between Chapters 1 and 2. They included:

MONTHS	SPENT:
36	Pregnant
96	Changing diapers
192	Getting offspring into or out of carseats
180	Driving to Sunday School
48 bazillion	Driving practice with teenage drivers. (Note: this item is multiplied by Parental-Terror units, which include the number of times your life flashes before your eyes…)
135 down, 9 to go	College tuition
396	Thinking up something to have for dinner
384	Being bossy. In charge. ~~The Boss.~~ Mom.
0	Playing with my grandchildren (but I’m not bitter. Much…)
All of them	Telling lies. Making stuff up Writing

In the romance-writing biz, we aim for the HEA (Happily-Ever-After), or—if we’re milking it for series potential—at least a HFN, or Happily-For-Now. (No, it doesn’t mean Hell, eFfing No…).

***

So it turns out that my Chapter 2 was a HFN, and I moved both into a castle in the north of England, and straight into Chapter 3.

Several years ago, we actually moved to the island, although it’s a bit bigger than I expected. We lived in one tower of a medieval castle in England.

YES. (And the beauty of this ensemble is that it's also what you'll wear to bed.)

What to really wear in a castle. And the beauty of this ensemble is that it’s also what you’ll wear to bed. Most of it at once.

I was living the dream. And apparently, the dream was really, really cold. The main thing to remember about living in a 1000+ year old pile of stone is that the builders were a lot more concerned with discouraging visits from Vikings and Scots than with heat and er… sanitation. But thanks to the sympathetic current owners of the castle, a new kitchen and bathroom took us past the original builders’ idea of facilities (which, from what I saw down in the surviving medieval rooms, pretty much involved a piece of stone with a hole in the middle). I learned what to wear. How to speak British. And best of all, what to do with my Saturdays.

As a favor to those who might be considering castle life, I invite you on a (virtual) visit. When you come, here is our typical day:

0’dark:30—the dog leaps straight from her bed to mine (or yours if the castle ghost, the White Lady, has popped in to open your door. Yes, the same door you carefully closed, locked, and probably secured with a chair under the knob. Ghosts don’t get out much, so their sense of humor is somewhat stunted…) The dog shares the breaking news. “It’s time. I hafta. Go NOW! Up, up, up. What part of pee-now do you people not get? And by the way, as long as you’re up, I wouldn’t turn down a bowl of kibble.”

One of the good things about sleeping with so many clothes on is that you just have to grab the keys, leash, and the glory that is your pair of British Wellies. Although there is no actual network signal around the castle, you should bring your phone so you can use its flashlight app to find the steaming pile the dog refuses to produce until she’s sniffed every single damn blade of grass in the meadow and churchyard surrounding the castle because, of course, this is the north of England which won’t see actual dawn for about four more hours. (Hey, I don’t want to hear your opinion of run-on sentences. It’s friggin early and we haven’t even had coffee.) Where was I? Oh, yeah. We stagger back to our tower and the exhausted dog collapses in one of the beds she keeps in every room. Tough morning; she needs a nap.

As we make the (industrial-strength) coffee, you sit in the kitchen and realize you can see your breaths.

I love you Mr. Milkman

When the coffee is ready, my brain thaws enough to remember that we went blindly past the milk that Mr. Milkman left at the portcullis, and we have a stare-down to see who will cave and go back down for the milk: the polite guest (you) or the polite hostess (ha, ha, ha, you’re funny, you are). BTW, I’ve never met him, and I really hope Mrs. Milkman doesn’t mind, but I’m in love with Mr. Milkman. He slips in even before the dog gets up, leaving adorable little bottles of organic milk, plus eggs, and rolls of butter wrapped in brown paper. We communicate via notes twisted up and poked into empty bottles I leave for him at the gate. It’s one of my all-time purest, most satisfying relationships.

My gorgeous French Émigré with the heart of darkness…

Coffee in hand, it’s time for you to witness the other significant relationship in my castle life. I’m not going to say who is dom and who is sub, but I spend a disturbing amount of my time on my knees in front of my sophisticated, elegant French partner, blowing until he’s burning hot (yes, I did write that…) and then returning every few hours to fulfill his needs again. Sometimes, even though I think I’m doing everything right, he knows I need to be punished and he vents his wrath in black oily smoke pouring back into the flat. This sets off the castle fire alarm system, which means I have only minutes to (grab keys/wellies/dog) race down the circular stairs, through the basement, up the other stairs, down the main hall, and over to the fire system in time to call off the emergency vehicles about to be dispatched. That system is clearly in cahoots with the angry Frenchie up in my living room, so I have to stand there for a few hours repeatedly pressing the “clear” button until they reluctantly agree to shut the f-up.

If it’s Wednesday, it’s Village Coffee, as I discovered my first day as a castle resident. I emerged to walk the dog, still wearing what I’d worn to bed (basically, almost every item of clothing I owned as explained above). I was immediately identified as fresh blood, captured, and marched over to coffee morning in the Victorian-era Village Hall. There may be some places where village coffee morning is a casual event. I just don’t think those places are in England. Certainly not in our village, where the weekly caffeination is the place for the major decisions, changes, and explanations of village life to be enacted over coffee and perhaps a few raffle ticket sales.

Village Coffee is also where I learned to speak British. For example, at coffee morning, I described my reaction to finding the side of my car bashed in. “I was so pissed,” I confessed. “And as the day went on, I just got more and more pissed off. In fact, by that night, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been that totally pissed.” There was a collective silence you could have cut with a knife. Finally one of my friends asked if I knew that pissed means drunk. All nodded sagely, and the discussion turned to the shame one felt to run out of homemade jam and have to serve (her voice lowered) jam from a shop.

What does all this have to do with a second act? Before the Castle, what little writing time I had was sandwiched into weekends, along with everything else that went with an executive career, four kids, a house, and American life. But after we moved to England—thanks to Her Majesty’s government and their very kind refusal to allow me a work permit—all my days are Saturdays. Those Saturdays multiplied until the story my daughter and I had tossed around as an idea became chapters and then a series of books.

We’ve recently moved from the Castle to our Hobbit House, a Victorian cottage with a secret garden surrounded by tall stone walls in the heart of Glasgow. My days are still all Saturdays, and the next two books in my Null City series, an anthology and Book 3, are due out early next year.

Barb’s Books

Null City Series: Superpowers suck. If you just want to live a normal life, Null City is only a Metro ride away. After one day there, imps become baristas, and hellhounds become poodles. Demons settle down, become parents, join the PTA, and worry about their taxes. But Gaby, Connor, and Carey—the three Parker siblings charged with protecting Null City—are still missing. And outside of Null City, now that the century-long secret Nonwars between Gifts and Haven are over and the Accords Treaty is signed, an uneasy peace is policed by Wardens under the command of the Accords Agency.

One Way Fare: Null City is the only sanctuary for Gaby Parker and Leila Rice, two young women confronting cataclysmic forces waging an unseen war between Heaven and Hell. Gaby and her younger brother and sister are already targets in the war that cost their parents’ lives. Meanwhile, Leila has inherited a French chateau, a mysterious legacy, and a prophecy that she will end the world. Gaby and Leila become catalysts for the founding and survival of Null City. It just would have been nice if someone told them the angels were all on the other side.

Don’t Touch: Hope flares each morning in the tiny flash of a second before Lette touches that first thing. And destroys it. Her online journal spans a decade, beginning with the day a thirteen-year-old inherits an extreme form of the family “gift.” Every day whatever she touches converts into something new: bunnies, bubbles, bombs, and everything in between. Lette’s search for a cure leads her to Stefan, whose fairy-tale looks hide a monstrous legacy, and to Rag, an arrogant, crabby ex-angel with boundary issues. The three face an army led by a monster who feeds on children’s fear. But it’s their own inner demons they must defeat first.

We’re All Human. Even When We’re Not (Anthology, Available late 2014) She’s a young witch whose goddess is house cat of unusual size. He’s a Warden policing a delicate truce between those who are human and those who… aren’t.

Round Trip Fare (Available early 2015) Carey Parker knows superpowers suck. From childhood she’s had two choices—master her warrior gift, or take the Metro train to Null City and a normal life. There are just a couple of problems with that. Her brother and sister have disappeared. The leader of the angels trying to destroy Null City might just be the one person she loves most in the world. And her new partner’s gift lets him predict deaths. Hers.

Bio

In a former life, Barb Taub wrote a humor column for several Midwest newspapers. Now that her days are all Saturdays, she’s lived with her prince-of-a-guy and the world’s most spoiled Aussie Dog in a medieval English castle and a Victorian Scottish cottage. She enjoys translating from British to American, and collaborating with daughter Hannah on the Null City series.

Where to find Barb…

Website | Amazon | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Joanne here!

Barb, thank you for sharing your adventures and your take on HEA and HFN. I could easily visualize your days in the castle and would love to hear more about the Hobbit House. The Null City series sounds intriguing. I’ve put both books on my TBR list.

When Change Means Survival

Posted on October 1, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Welcome to my Second Acts Series!

Today, we have a different kind of second act. A character in Soul Mate author Linda Bennett Pennell’s novel, Confederado do Norte, is sharing her reinvention story.

Here’s Mary Catherine!

Set during the aftermath of the American Civil War, Confederado do Norte tells the story of Mary Catherine MacDonald Dias Oliveira Atwell, a child torn from her war devastated home in Georgia and thrust into the primitive Brazilian interior where the young woman she becomes must learn to recreate herself in order to survive.

Mary Catherine’s first recreation began when she was just a child of 10. Here is a mature Mary Catherine sharing that first recreation in her own words.

My story began at the end of a long war in which many lives and much property were destroyed. After all these years, I can still smell the acrid smoke coming off the ash heap that was the farmhouse where my parents and I once lived. It is as though no time at all has passed since Sherman’s March to the Sea. The only thing that Mama, my beloved nurse Bess, and I could do was watch from our hiding place and wish that Papa wasn’t so far away fighting.

When Papa finally found his way home from the war, it was as a changed man – bitter, lost, and given to unpredictable rages followed by deep melancholia. Even so, we were happy to have him home because we believed he would one day return to himself. If it hadn’t been for a newspaper article and a handful of advertisements my life would have turned out quite differently. As it was, it took little to convince Papa that leaving home was the only solution left to defeated Southerners. Emperor Dom Pedro II’s promise of free land in Brazil’s heartland and subsidized passage sealed our fate.

Shortly after we immigrated, my mother died of galloping consumption, leaving me in the care of my father and my mother’s only surviving brother, Nathan. Papa’s mercurial nature coupled with Nathan’s hatred of me left me uncertain and confused. You see, Nathan blamed me for my mother’s death. The fear that he might be right haunted me, but when I learned Nathan was demanding I be returned to family in Georgia, I became determined to do everything possible to prevent it. I had already lost Mama. I couldn’t bear being separated from Papa as well. At the age of ten, I became a self-taught housekeeper – cooking, cleaning, washing the clothes, tending the vegetable garden, preserving food – nothing was beyond my scope.

By age twelve I decided to pile my long auburn hair up on my head as I had once seen Mama do. It was safer and cooler when I did the housework. Nathan said I was too young to flounce around like a grown woman, but Papa said I did the work of two women so to leave me alone. It came as a shock when I realized that I really didn’t feel like a girl anymore. Somewhere between lifting wet clothes out of the wash pot and cooking on the wood fired stove, I had made the transition from little girl to young woman. Somehow all that I had experienced made that little girl seem like a stranger, as though I were a different person completely. Before I was twenty-one, I would recreate myself two more times because my life and freedom would depend on it.

Bio

I have been in love with the past for as long as I can remember. Anything with a history, whether shabby or majestic, recent or ancient, instantly draws me in. I suppose it comes from being part of a large extended family that spanned several generations. Long summer afternoons on my grandmother’s porch or winter evenings gathered around her fireplace were filled with stories both entertaining and poignant. Of course being set in the American South, those stories were also peopled by some very interesting characters, some of whom have found their way into my work.

As for my venture in writing, it has allowed me to reinvent myself. We humans are truly multifaceted creatures, but unfortunately we tend to sort and categorize each other into neat, easily understood packages that rarely reveal the whole person. Perhaps you, too, want to step out of the box in which you find yourself. I encourage you to look at the possibilities and imagine. Be filled with childlike wonder in your mental wanderings. Envision what might be, not simply what is. Let us never forget, all good fiction begins when someone says to her or himself, “Let’s pretend.”

I reside in the Houston area with one sweet husband and one adorable German Shorthaired Pointer who is quite certain she’s a little girl.

Favorite quote regarding my professional passion: “History is filled with the sound of silken slippers going downstairs and wooden shoes coming up.” Voltaire

Where to find Linda Pennell…

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon

Joanne here!

Linda, thanks for giving us insight in Mary Catherine’s early life. I’m putting Confederado do Norte on my TBR list.

Living Life Without Regrets

Posted on September 26, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Welcome to my Second Acts Series!

Today, we have Patti Pokorchak sharing the adventures of her multi-layered life.

Here’s Patti!

First Act

Patti at her IBM Graduation[/caption]Until I was 25, I was a pretty normal but driven kid. I skipped Grade 4, graduated with a computer-programming diploma from Ryerson Polytechnic Institute (college) and started working at IBM when I was still a teenager. Having vowed to never go to university, I returned to Ryerson to get not one but two degrees. My first never say never episode. Returned to IBM where I proceeded to make too much money at a young age.

Patti at her IBM Graduation

What triggered the need for change?

The fear of regret was the impetus to leave everything behind including a promising career, boyfriend, and lifestyle that was supposedly everything most people would ever want. But, I was neither happy nor content. Having spent six weeks in Europe between my two degrees, I had vowed to return for a longer period of time. I had saved $20,000, so money was not the issue. It was not waiting around for someone else to come with me. Time to act or regret it for the rest of my life!

Second Act

After my year of travel, I didn’t want to go home, back to all that was so familiar to me. I found a job and place to live in Munich where I had an established base of friends that I had made. My German was pretty basic, but my IBM training was a great foundation. My MBA was not recognized at that time in Germany but my tech background was attractive to startups. Being a foreign female in the technology world had its challenges AND perks. I rapidly made a name for myself, got headhunted for my second job by the American President because my English was so poor (yes, it is my mother tongue but I had so integrated myself into the German language, that my English was rusty).

After four years of working at three start-ups in Germany, it was time to leave, as I had had to change my personality in order to succeed in business in Germany. Life’s too short to do that for long. Plus I had a British boyfriend who lived in Geneva and I loved the British sense of humour as well as their more open and equitable business culture.

With a few months as a ‘homeless’ person (British car, German driver’s license and Canadian passport but officially did not live anywhere), by the time my UK work permit came through, I was ready to be laid off again. Technology – gotta love it. My second company proved to have more staying power and I finally returned to help start their Canadian operation, based in Ottawa.

Third Act

After trying another large tech company for a horrible seven months, in 1992, I finally said enough and started the first of several businesses. I helped start and run a software company for 10 years before moving to the country and opening up a garden center and hobby farm (Act 4?).

Patti on the farm

Where are you now?

Back in Toronto, my hometown after my 30-year detour, I’m now the Small Biz Sales Coach — my final business (I swear it is!). After 35 years of selling and starting from being a geeky shy insecure introvert, I know what it’s like to be scared of selling and eventually learning how to have fun with it. I love helping others get over the fear of sales and asking for more money!

To have fun and make money is the only way to live!

Do you have advice for anyone planning to pursue a second act?

Imagine yourself at age 95 – what would you regret not having done? Those are your dreams of today.

Remember you’ll regret NOT having done something when you’re older and no longer able to do whatever that is.

Just do it!

Coming Soon

My Book – The Reinvention Rebel – Live Life Without Regrets!

Make your passion profitable with my proven practical advice!

Where to find Patti…

Website: http://SmallBizSalesCoach.ca

Telephone: 416-951-3842

Email: Patti@SmallBizSalesCoach.ca

Joanne here!

Patti, thank you for sharing your adventures. You are definitely a poster child for reinvention. I look forward to the release of The Reinvention Rebel.

Happy Autumn!

Posted on September 23, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Whenever I look out at Nature’s breathtaking fall palette, I am inspired and invigorated to start anew. Anything and everything is possible during the cool, crisp days of autumn.

Some of my favorite quotations…

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns. George Eliot

No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one autumnal face. John Donne

Autumn, the year’s last loveliest smile. William Cullen Bryant

Autumn, the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits. Samuel Butler

Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn. Emily Dickinson

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting, and autumn a mosaic of them all. Stanley Horowitz

Autumn asks that we prepare for the future—that we be wise in the ways of garnering and keeping. But it also asks that we learn to let go—to acknowledge the beauty of sparseness. Bonaro W. Overstreet

I’ve never known anyone yet who doesn’t suffer a certain restlessness when autumn rolls around…We’re all eight years old and anything is possible. Sue Grafton

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower. Albert Camus

Even if something is left undone, everyone must take time to sit still and watch the leaves turn. Elizabeth Lawrence

Your Time to Shine

Posted on September 17, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Welcome to my Second Acts Series!

Today, we have Soul Mate Author Gay Yellen sharing her extraordinary journey from high school Economics class to literary publication via Hollywood.

Here’s Gay!

Thanks, Joanne, for inviting me to share my Second Act, though my journey feels more like a full-on odyssey. But I’ll try to keep it to two.

First Act: I’ve always written. Dr. Seuss was an early influence, and I still write silly verse for fun. In high school I wrote my best poetry in Economics class, to the chagrin of my teacher. But my writing career didn’t begin until after I got Hollywood out of my system.

The need for change: Performing came naturally to me. After college I moved to L.A. and began an acting career. While I managed to get film and TV work, I hated the life (yes, it’s as tough as the stories you hear).

First Act, Part 2: I decided to apply to the Director’s Guild, which led to a job behind the camera as the Assistant to the Director of Production at The American Film Institute. I worked with thesis film students on their productions, helped cast actors, secure and manage location shooting, arrange with major studios to use their back lots for filming, their props, costumes, etc., and facilitated editing and post-production.

The need for change: I loved working at AFI, but the pay was meager.

Second Act, Part 1: A friend heard that a magazine needed a last-minute substitute to cover a story over the weekend. I jumped at it, even though I didn’t know a thing about the subject, or about magazines, for that matter. After I turned in the article, the magazine offered me an editing position. It paid much more than the AFI job, so I took it. In a couple of years, I moved to another magazine, where a series I wrote won a national journalism award.

Second Act, Part 2: A book! I helped write an international thriller, Five Minutes to Midnight, which was my first taste of book publishing. Soon after, I fell in love, married, and thought I was finally free to try my hand at a solo novel.

Second Act, Part 3: I’d just completed the first draft of The Body Business when my husband asked me for help with the advertising for his new national marketing firm. “Can you come up to the office this afternoon and tell me why my ads in The Wall Street Journal aren’t working?” he pleaded. “You’ve been in magazines, so you know about advertising.”

I tried to explain that editors don’t normally deal with the ad department, but he was my husband, so I went. Fifteen years later, after creating countless marketing pieces, ads, and even investment prospectuses, we sold the company, and I retired as its V.P. of client and media communications, and advertising.

Second Act, Part 4: Finally, I was free to do my own work. I dusted off the old rough draft of my book and discovered that it had become a period piece, with pay phones, typewriters and snail mail playing pivotal roles in the action. I updated it to the 21st Century, put it through a critique circle and found Soul Mate Publishing. The Body Business was published in 2014.

Where are you now?

I’m working furiously on the sequel to The Body Business, and there are other projects in queue. I’m happy to finally affirm that writing is no longer my first, second or tenth act. It’s what I do.

Affirmation

Work to be as good as you can at what you do, and believe that your time to shine will come.

Blurb

A great career. Fantastic boyfriend. Samantha Newman has it all, until her best friend vanishes, and doubt creeps in. Forced to choose between the success she’s worked hard to achieve and the hidden truth behind it, she risks everything and discovers a dark secret that could destroy her life forever.

Where to find Gay…

Website | Amazon | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Joanne here!

What a whirlwind! If you ever run out of ideas for novels, consider writing your memoirs. Thank you for an entertaining and inspiring post.

Life is for Living

Posted on September 12, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Welcome to my Second Acts Series!

Today, we have author and Acquisitions Editor Katie Hamstead chatting about a very early second act.

Here’s Katie!

Briefly describe your early acts.

Early acts… Well, I feel like I’m still fairly early in life since I’m 27. So I guess my acts consist of school, post high school to marriage, then married life. High school days were tough, but fun. I had the bullying and isolation going on, but to be honest, I’m kind of glad I went through all of that. Not that I enjoyed it, but the bullying made me stronger, and the isolation made me understand what real friends are and the qualities in people I enjoy associating with and that uplift and strengthen me. But high school was fun, in that I could explore my talents and hobbies. Along with writing stories on scrap notebook pages, I loved singing and sports, which I don’t get much chance to do either of any more. I miss playing and performing terribly.

After high school, I kind of went into “party” mode. Finally I was free. I did a stint as an exchange student (BEST choice I ever made, I highly recommend it to anyone who has a chance) I got a job, I traveled, I moved around, I sought out higher education, and I made friends with people who really helped boost my confidence and let the real me shine out. My years from 18-22 were a blast, even though there were moments of pain and grief unlike any other period before. But with all negative experiences, I try to glean lessons from them, to help me grow.

I married at 22, so have been married for just over 5 years. When I married, I migrated to the USA from Australia. I’m an Aussie, born and raised! And my hubby is a Native American (Navajo). This act eventually led me to my writing when I a) wasn’t allowed to work due to visa restrictions and b) got pregnant right when my restrictions got lifted, so no one wanted to employ me. As a result, I found myself with lots of time on my hands, so one thing led to another and I picked up my writing again.

What triggered the need for change?

It my last act, boredom mostly. I needed something to fill the time while my hubby was at work. I’d grown tired of being homesick, so wanted to get productive. Actually, that’s kind of what triggers most of my changes. I get bored with what I’m doing with my life. That’s pretty honest, right?

Where are you now?

Now I’m in a pretty good place. I love writing, acquiring for CQ and being a wife and mother… although I am getting restless. I think we need to move or do something to shake things up a bit.

Do you have advice for anyone planning to pursue a second act?

Go ahead! Life is for living, pursuing your dreams, and growing. Why just exist? Make your life worth every breath you take.

Blurb

Terrorists have invaded Sydney, and Allison King barely escapes her brother’s wedding reception alive. She and her siblings flee, but their parents are killed by firing squad.

Now Ali’s on the run and terrified. While searching for other survivors, she is captured by the General who leads the invasion. He’s smitten by Ali, and when she refuses to submit to his whims, he brands her for death. In a wild act of defiance, she snatches the branding rod and sears the mark onto his face. Marking not only him but also sealing her fate. Ali manages to escape and flees into the bush once more where she finds a group in hiding. Even with the scars left by the General, Ali learns to love and falls in love with the young man who found her—Damien Rogers.

But the General is hunting her. When he discovers their location, and finds her with another man—Damien—his wrath is kindled and his obsession is inflamed. Ali must put herself on the line or the General could kill her family, those who help her, and most significantly, the man she loves.

Bio

Born and raised in Australia, Katie’s early years of day dreaming in the “bush”, and having her father tell her wild bedtime stories, inspired her passion for writing.

After graduating High School, she became a foreign exchange student where she met a young man who several years later she married. Now she lives in Arizona with her husband, daughter and their dog.

She has a diploma in travel and tourism which helps inspire her writing. She currently works as an Acquisitions Editor with Curiosity Quills Press to help support her family.

Katie loves to out sing her friends and family, play sports and be a good wife and mother. She loves to write, and takes the few spare moments in her day to work on her novels.

Where to find Katie…

Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon

Joanne here!

I am impressed by your can-do attitude and ability to deal with boredom. Thank you for sharing your journey and best of luck with all your literary endeavors.

Oprah and Paulo Coelho

Posted on September 8, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Yesterday, Oprah welcomed bestselling author Paulo Coelho to Super Soul Sunday. Paulo is celebrating the 25th anniversary of a true phenomenon: The Alchemist. Since publication, this magical allegory about an Andalusian shepherd boy named Santiago who travels from Spain to Egypt in search of treasure has broken all records. Over 65 million copies have been sold and it is the most translated book in history.

I was fascinated by Paulo’s early history and the near-death of The Alchemist.

Born into a middle- class family in Rio de Janeiro, he was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps and become an engineer. When Paulo rebelled, his parents bribed him and, when that failed, they committed him to a mental institution from which he escaped three times before being released at the age of 20. Paulo made it clear that his parents truly loved him but were not comfortable with the idea of a son following a creative path.

Originally, Paulo launched The Alchemist through a small Brazilian publishing house. Initial sales were dismal and the publisher decided not to reprint. Passionate and committed to its success, Paulo found a larger publishing house and from there the book took off. Both Oprah and Paulo stressed the book reached the critical masses because of famous (Bill Clinton, Madonna, Will Smith) and more importantly, anonymous readers.

Throughout the telecast, Paulo shared wonderful observations and insights.

We all have a personal legend. And the key behind that legend is enthusiasm. We need to ask ourselves what gives us enthusiasm, keeping in mind that we betray our personal legend whenever we do something without enthusiasm.

We become fluent in the language of the world by daring, and we learn this language by paying attention and making mistakes. Omens and signs are everywhere. We need to look at everything as if we are seeing it for the first time.

Paulo believes that God will ask: “Did you love enough?” Here, Paulo is not referring to romantic love but whether we are able to open our hearts to embrace every grain of sand.

Quotable Quotes

Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure.

The heart is like a flower. It can be very brave or easily hurt.

Always listen to your heart, even when it scares you.

Before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along the way. It does this not because it is evil, but so that we can, in addition to realizing our dreams, master the lessons we’ve learned as we’ve moved toward that dream. That’s the point at which most people give up. It’s the point at which, as we say in the language of the desert, one “dies of thirst just when the palm trees have appeared on the horizon.”

When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you get it.

Book Review: Never Too Late

Posted on September 5, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

As an author on my own road to reinvention, I’m always on the lookout for stories about women who boldly seek adventures that propel them into second acts. I was thrilled to discover Claire Cook’s delightful novels and read about her extraordinary journey.

Reinvention is a recurring theme in Claire’s life and novels.

She wrote her first novel at age 45 in a minivan while her children were at swim practice. Five years later, she walked down the red carpet at the Hollywood premiere of Must Love Dogs, the film adaptation of her second book.

After eleven best-selling novels and numerous speaking engagements, Claire has written a nonfiction book, Never Too Late: Your Roadmap to Reinvention (without getting lost along the way).

Using her trademark humor and wit, Claire tells her own story and that of other reinventors while providing tips on finding that sweet spot, staying on track, securing a support system, building a platform, and overcoming perfectionism.

You don’t have to be a writer or midlifer to appreciate this book. It will appeal to any woman who feels stymied or dissatisfied with her present circumstances. And by the end of the book, the reader will be able to answer Claire’s thought-provoking question: “What would you like your life to be in five years and what’s getting in your way?”

Quotable Quotes

Karma is a boomerang.

You don’t have to be good at it—that takes time and hard work. But you have to love it enough to want to be good at it.

If Plan A doesn’t work, the alphabet has 25 more letters (204 if you’re in Japan!).

If failure comes with a lesson, take it. If it doesn’t, put it behind you and move on.

There were only three things standing in my way all that time: me, myself and I.

Dreams don’t have an expiration date. Not even a best by date. If it’s still your dream, it’s still your dream.

Where to find Claire…

Website | Twitter | Facebook

Romance: Bah Humbug?

Posted on September 3, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Welcome to my Second Acts Series!

Today, we have June Kearns entertaining us with her take on romance and romance writing.

Here’s June!

First Act

One of my earliest memories is being under the kitchen table, hidden by fringes of the chenille cloth and listening to the chink of teacups, laughter and whispered secrets between my mum and her sisters.

They all read romances – the quest to find the one person you were destined to spend your life with, that impulse buried deep in the natural world. Apparently, when you least expected it – zing would go the strings of your heart (or something like that!)

Without fail, the heroines in these stories were head-turning, heart-stopping beauties. One look, and the hero would be smitten.

At 13, I’d already decided that no-one would ever fall in love with me. Small, sturdy and self-conscious, I had hair that frizzed in damp weather and a tendency to flush easily.

How could I ever inspire love? Because this was how the world worked, wasn’t it?

It was a terrible blow.

What triggered the need for change?

Then, I read Jane Eyre.

Here was a heroine as plain and self-conscious as myself (and Charlotte Bronte!) who still sparked passion in the hero. I started to believe that passionate relationships could be generated by great conversations, argument and humour.

My first writing success, after leaving teaching to have my children, was winning a national magazine competition for the first chapter of an historical romance.

‘Why romance?’ people said, often with a sniff.

Ah well, it’s such a life force, isn’t it?

Apparently, (I’ve just read this in the newspaper!) romantic love is something we only started to appreciate here, roughly 100 years after the Norman conquest of Britain. Up until the 12th century, knights had regarded biffing each other as pretty much its own reward. After that, they needed to believe that the biffing was necessary to win fair ladies – the ones dangling their hair out of castle windows. Great stuff.

Where are you now?

I’m concentrating on the sort of stories that I feel suit me best – sort of hist/fict/romcoms – with (hopefully) plenty of laughter, rat-a-tat dialogue, and cut and thrust of comic conversation – the sort they did so well in those fabulous 1930s and 40s films.

My current WIP is set in 1960s London.

Do you have advice for anyone planning to pursue a second act?

I’ve read some wonderful advice on this blog from other women.

Mine would be – don’t be afraid of just being yourself. For a long time, I didn’t believe that was good enough. (My star sign is Cancer – favourite position safely under the shell, peeping out!)

But – there’s absolutely no-one else like you!

Just follow your own instincts.

Any affirmations or quotations you wish to share?

I spend a LOT of time staring at the wall in front of my desk – it’s chock full of helpful homilies and quotations!

Samuel Beckett’s ‘Try again. Fail again. Fail better’ – is one of my favourites. And: ‘Stop apologising. Relax. Just write the story you want to read!’

June’s Books

The American West, 1867

After a stagecoach wreck, well-bred bookish spinster Annie Haddon, (product of mustn’t-take-off-your-hat, mustn’t-take-off-your-gloves, mustn’t-get hot-or-perspire Victorian society) is thrown into the company of cowboy Colt McCall – a man who lives by his own rules, and hates the English.

Can two people from such wildly different backgrounds learn to trust each other? Annie and McCall find out on their journey across the haunting, mystical landscape of the West.

1924. The English Shores after the Great War.

When her jazzing flapper of an aunt dies, Gerardina Mary Chiledexter inherits some silver-topped scent bottles, a wardrobe of love-affair clothes, and astonishingly, a half-share in a million-acre cattle ranch in south-west Texas.

Haunted by a psychic cat, and the ghost voice of that aunt, Leonie, Gerry feels driven to travel thousands of miles to see the ranch for herself.

Against a background of big sky, cattle barons and oil wells, she is soon engaged in a game of power, pride and ultimately love, with the Texan who owns he other half.

Where to find June…

Website | New Romantics4 Website | Facebook | Twitter

Joanne here!

June, thank you for sharing your journey and insights. Best of luck with all your literary endeavors.

How Cancer Opened a Door for Me to Walk Through

Posted on August 22, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Welcome to my Second Acts Series!

Today, we have Karen Ingalls sharing her extraordinary journey from a nursing career in traditional and holistic medicine to a second act shaped by a life-altering diagnosis.

Here’s Karen!

Thank you, Joanne, for inviting me to be a part of your Second Act Series. When I received your invitation my mind immediately went to several second acts in my life, but I quickly knew that my most recent one was the one to share with your readers.

I remember as a young girl writing in tablets and diaries about magical places, current family events, and many dreams and goals. I wrote poems, pieces of prose, short stories, and even a novel when in my late teens. I never showed my writing nor told anyone about it. I wrote because it was a way to escape reality, create a happier world, or write about people (famous or not) who I admired or loved. I did not think of myself as a writer nor visualize myself someday having a published book or article. I wrote because I enjoyed it, it helped me, and through it I found a sense of peace.

Along with writing I have always loved to read. Here I was and still am influenced by my grandmother Edith, who was a librarian assistant and she gave her grandchildren books at every possible opportunity. Though she had an eighth grade education she was a scholar in her own right. She was a very positive role model for me with the articles she wrote for the library and church, the books she read, her daily diaries, and her constant pursuit of information.

One of my first acts was to put into reality my dream of being a doctor, but instead I chose the field of nursing. I went on to get my Master’s Degree in Human Development with a double major in psychology and social service. For thirty years I worked in traditional medicine, but also opened up my own holistic nursing service called Kare ‘N Touch. There I offered clients counseling, biofeedback, Swedish massage, acupressure and healing work all on a sliding fee basis.

The second act, my pursuit of writing, was when I co-authored a nursing article with another nurse, Charlotte Tourville, titled The Living Tree of Nursing Theories. This article was well received and today it is a model used by several schools of nursing. Our first publication was a thrilling moment for both of us. It was the result of using her strength in knowledge and research, and my gift of writing. A sense of accomplishment and the accompanying recognition fanned the second act which I now know I was destined to do and be.

A few years later (2008) brought the life altering diagnosis of ovarian cancer. The subsequent surgery, tests, chemotherapies, and many doctor’s visits changed my life forever in a positive way. Again I turned to journaling and writing as one of my coping and healing tools. A close friend asked to read my journal, which I said was just a diary and would not be of interest to her. She insisted and brought it back to me a few days later saying, “Karen, you must get this published. Women all over the world will benefit from what you are saying.”

Due to the recognition of the nursing article and my friend’s enthusiastic response to my journal, I now felt confident enough to ask a retired English professor to read my tattered and often rewritten novel’s manuscript. A week later she returned it to me and said, “Karen, you blew me away. This is excellent.”

Doors were opening for me to enter and walk through. Little did I know that my nursing career in traditional and holistic medicine and an ovarian cancer diagnosis would bring me to my present act as an accomplished and published author of a nursing article and two books.

My first published book, Outshine: An Ovarian Cancer Memoir, has earned two awards and been well accepted by the medical community, patients, and their families. I donate all proceeds to gynecologic cancer research at Florida Hospital Cancer Institute.

My novel, Novy’s Son, The Selfish Genius, follows the life of a man searching for love and acceptance from his father. Many times when I counseled men, they were on a similar search and too many of them sought out approval through unhealthy behaviors.

My second act as an author is exciting and I believe it is my God given purpose. I write a weekly blog about health/wellness, relationships, spirituality, and cancer. I give presentations to churches, libraries, hospitals, service organizations, and book clubs. I have published articles in Oncology Times, PearlPoint.com, Southern Writers’ Magazine, and have been a guest blogger for a number of sites.

I am writing my second novel, because I believe it is a story that needs to be told. I love to use my imagination and this story certainly allows me to do just that. It is a story of love, tragedy, and family dynamics in the nineteenth century.

I look back on my life and know that there were many steps I needed to take and challenges to overcome. All of my life events have brought me to where I am today. I say to all who read this, “Listen to your heart and follow your dream.” I love to read a good story, and I hope that my gift of writing brings those same feelings to my readers.

“Your talent is God’s gift to you, what you do with that talent is your gift to God” (Leo Buscaglia). I am blessed to be living my second act with joy, love, and peace.

Karen’s Books

When I was diagnosed with Stage II ovarian cancer, I realized how little I new about what was once called “the silent killer.” As I began to educate myself I felt overwhelmed by the prevalent negativity of cancer. Lost in the information about drugs, side effects, and statistics, I redirected my energy to focus on the equally overwhelming blessings of life, learning to rejoice in each day, and find peace in spirituality. In this memoir I offer a perspective of hope with the knowledge that “the beauty of the soul, the real me and the real you, outshines the effects of cancer, chemotherapy, and radiation. This is a story of survival, and reminds readers that disease is not an absolute, but a challenge to recover.

From his early childhood, Matthew Collins sought love and acceptance from his father, who was raised as the bastard child of a famous artist. Matthew struggled with jealousy toward his younger brothers, and he questioned the morals and values of people around him.

As an adult, Matthew lived life his way, with years of lying, womanizing, and heavy drinking. Though married four times, did he ever find unconditional love? Would Matthew’s high intelligence, his love for his two daughters, and his unique philosophy of life help him rise above his demons?

Where to find Karen…

Joanne here!

Karen, thank you for an inspiring post and good luck with all your literary endeavors. I encourage all readers of this blog to follow Karen online and learn more about her extraordinary journey.