Hold on Tight to Your Dreams

Posted on October 10, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Welcome to my Second Acts Series!

Today, we have Lizzie Lamb chatting about the dream that simmered for over three decades before coming to fruition.

Here’s Lizzie!

Briefly describe your first act.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer. However, like most aspiring writers I had bills to pay and commitments to meet. I’m not the sort of person who could starve in a garret in order to write, or the kind of woman who would expect her husband/partner to support her financially while she followed a dream. A dream which might never be realised. So the dream went on hold. If I couldn’t be a writer, I decided, I would pour my enthusiasm for writing into helping children fall in love with words and books instead, and stimulate their imagination through story telling.

In 1972 I qualified as a primary school teacher and spent time and energy teaching children how to become better writers. In this process I discovered that I had a talent for writing, producing plays and providing ex-curricular Dance and Drama Workshops for the older children. Throughout my thirty four year teaching career I never gave up on the dream that one day I would hold my own book in my hands.

Fast forward to 1988. With my career established, I managed to find some time away from marking, preparation and assessment and wrote my first romance. It was entitled The Summer of the Lotus and thanks to contacts I made I acquired an agent. I then wrote romance #2 A Reversal of Fortune, in which Mills and Boone showed an interest but suggested that I needed to hone and develop my craft. I was more than happy to do this and carried on writing in the wee, small hours after my prep for the next day was completed.

In 1990 I reached a crossroads in my life to pursue my writing dream or to get to the top of my chosen profession, teaching. I applied for and was appointed Deputy Head Teacher in a large (400+) primary school in Leicestershire. Yes, you’ve guessed it, the writing was put on hold as the post was too good to pass up on. Over the next sixteen years my time was taken up as a manager, coordinator and facilitator. However, I still found time to write, produce, choreograph and direct two plays a year with the older children in school, so the writing bug was kept alive.

What triggered the need for change?

The clock was ticking and changes were taking place in publication – Amazon, self-publishing, kindle and so on and I wanted to ride the crest of the wave before it petered out. In 2006 I took the plunge and retired from teaching (at age 55) in order to concentrate on my writing. My desire and enthusiasm had never diminished but the face of romantic fiction was changing – thanks to the Bridget Jones’s phenomenon, and I wanted to be part of those changes.

I had always enjoyed reading and writing about feisty heroines with a can-do attitude; women who want to succeed in life. The heroines in my novels fall in love, of course they do, but they don’t sit around like depressed Cinderellas waiting for a prince to rescue them. They are ‘heroes’ in their own right and more than a match for the male protagonist. Typically, he will be a more rounded Beta hero, rather than a domineering Alpha male. These are the men I relate to and the feedback I’ve received from my readership, show they do, too. My heroes are looking for Miss Right, but might not realise that she’s right in front of him until they experiences a coup de foudre and fall in love.

I got back in touch with my former agent but she had retired, and so I started down the road of submitting to agents looking for debut authors. However, I was advised by other writers that, for me, self-publishing might be the answer.

I had my novel professionally critiqued, proof read and formatted. I launched Tall, Dark and Kilted on Amazon in November 2012, closely followed by Boot Camp Bride a year later. During that time I formed an indie authors’ collaborative with three other romance authors, The New Romantics 4, learned to blog, tweet, and have made lots of friends and fans through the pages of Facebook and Pinterest.

Where are you now?

I’m 70% through writing rom com number three, set in Scotland, with a hunky American hero called Brodie. I hope to publish in 2015, after posting a cover reveal, post and pre-order links on my website soon after Christmas. I have ideas for many more novels and, fingers crossed, will have the stamina and good health to write them. I haven’t gone down the route of actively looking for an agent and a publisher as I am quite happy being an indie author ATM. But who knows? If the right contract came along, one which offered me better terms than I can get on my own, I might be interested. But it’d have to be pretty good as I have done all the hard work and am loathe to hand it all over to a publisher who might not work hard to promote me.

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

If you have a dream – and who doesn’t? – go for it. You might have to wait until the mortgage is paid, the children have been through university and left home, but never lose sight of what is it you really want to do. Who you really are. Start planning for it in advance and get your ducks in a row, like I did. I had to wait for thirty four years to realise my dream, but I got there in the end. I hope you realise your dream much sooner.

Any affirmations or quotations you wish to share?

Life is not a rehearsal.

If luck doesn’t come your way, go out and make your own luck.

But above all – Follow Your Heart . . . That’s what I did.

Lizzie’s Books

Fliss Bagshawe longs for a passport out of Pimlico where she works as a holistic therapist. After attending a party in Notting Hill she loses her job and with it the dream of being her own boss. She’s offered the chance to take over a failing therapy centre, but there’s a catch. The centre lies five hundred miles north in Wester Ross, Scotland. Fliss’s romantic view of the highlands populated by Men in Kilts is shattered when she has an upclose and personal encounter with the Laird of Kinloch Mara, Ruairi Urquhart. He’s determined to pull the plug on the business, bring his eccentric family to heel and eject undesirables from his estate – starting with Fliss. Facing the dole queue once more Fliss resolves to make sexy, infuriating Ruairi revise his unflattering opinion of her, turn the therapy centre around and sort out his dysfunctional family. Can Fliss tame the Monarch of the Glen and find the happiness she deserves?

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon Canada

It’s almost two years to the day since I finished formatting Tall, Dark and Kilted and the proof copy of the paperback arrived from Create Space. To celebrate this momentous occasion, I’m reducing the price of Tall Dark and Kilted from £1.99 to £0.99 ($2.99 to $0.99 in the U.S.) for the next two weeks. So, if you fancy spending these chilly autumn evenings in the company of a hot laird, download it now.

Take an up-for-anything reporter. Add a world-weary photo-journalist. Put them together . . . light the blue touch paper and stand well back! Posing as a bride-to-be, Charlee Montague goes undercover at a boot camp for brides in order to photograph supermodel Anastasia Markova. At Charlee’s side and posing as her fiancé, is Rafael Ffinch award winning photographer and survivor of a kidnap attempt in Colombia. He’s in no mood to cut inexperienced Charlee any slack and has made it plain that once the investigation is over, their partnership – and fake engagement – will be terminated, too. Soon Charlee has more questions than answers. What’s the real reason behind Ffinch’s interest in the boot camp? How is it connected to his kidnap in Colombia? In setting out to uncover the truth, Charlee puts herself in danger … As the investigation draws to a close, she wonders if she’ll be able to hand back the engagement ring and walk away from Rafa without a backward glance.

Amazon UK | Amazon US | Amazon Canada

Where to find Lizzie…

And New Romantics 4

Blog | Facebook | Twitter

Joanne here!

Lizzie, thank you for inspiring us with your journey and reminding us never to give up on our dreams. Best of luck with all your literary endeavors.

Breaking Down Barriers

Posted on October 8, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Welcome to my Second Acts Series!

Today, we have Dawn Rusinko sharing her inspiring journey through prolonged and difficult seasons.

Here’s Dawn!

Thank you Joanne for inviting me to write for your segments on Second Acts.

We all have Seasons in our lives that conjure change. Life circumstances often lead us to face challenges. Challenges like, the sting of rejection, ingratitude, deception and false expectations that surprise us from people we care about. It forces us to take a deep hard look within, but not to stay there in self-pity licking our wounds. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been there. I can remember being very sick and finding out who my real friends were. Writing a children’s book and being rejected by 23 publishing companies, because I didn’t have a literary agent, or it was not their style of publishing. My 11-year-old, son almost lost his life due to a brain tumor and hemorrhaging blood clot. I experienced failed relationships and business ventures, but with every loss there is grieving and a healing process.

This process can feel like the end of the road, but it isn’t. It’s where you meet your darkness, crushed to allow the new seeds of life to break forth. It’s like driving through a long dark tunnel bringing you to a new season of life. You break down and through the barriers of rejection and loss learning that it didn’t kill you it refined and redirected you to better and brighter things. New chapters open when old chapters end.

Currently, I am going through the tunnel to a new season in my life. I’ve picked back up that rejected children’s book from 25 years ago and working on resurrecting it. I am fine-tuning my writing skills by blogging. I am volunteering on a National and local level, and I am in the process of writing three books with the hope that this time I will break down the barrier into publishing. I’ve found these quotes helpful to me, perhaps you will too.

J.K. Rowling and her Harry Potter series was not only rejected 12 times, but she was told rather harshly not to quit her day job. Anne Frank’s diary was rejected 15 times and the famous “Gone with the Wind” was rejected 38 times. When Lucille Ball began studying to be actress in 1927, she was told by the head instructor to, “Try any other profession.”

“Great success is built on failure, frustration, even catastrophe” ~Sumner Redstone

“I’ve missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games 26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot … and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. That is why I succeed.” ~ Michael Jordan

Where to find Dawn…

Blog | Facebook | Twitter

Joanne here!

Thank you, Dawn, for sharing your journey. Your post has uplifted my spirit, and I am certain it will resonate with many other readers. Let me know when your first book is published. I would love to spotlight it on this blog.

Oprah and Elizabeth Gilbert

Posted on October 6, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

Oprah welcomed author and spiritual trailblazer Elizabeth Gilbert to Super Soul Sunday.

The telecast focused on the lessons inherent in Eat, Pray, Love, the book that sparked a revolution and inspired a generation of women around the world to start their own journeys. It is not surprising that the book was translated into 46 different languages, sold over 15 million copies, and spent over 200 weeks on the best-seller list.

Interestingly enough, Elizabeth had not planned on starting a revolution. At a critical juncture in her own life, she realized that staying in her marriage was scarier than choosing to honor the call: What have I come here to do with my life?” Elizabeth’s call took her on a transformative journey—a hero’s journey— to Italy, India and Bali.

The hero’s journey starts with a call, a call that you can choose to pursue or ignore. If you decide to answer the call, the trials will begin. You can expect to feel hurt and challenged at every turn, but if you persist, each obstacle will prepare you for your battle.

In India, Elizabeth faced her demons while spending grueling hours in meditation. She finally realized she was the mother of all those orphaned parts—failure, fear, anger and shame—and that she was in the driver’s seat.

While touring and speaking to women around the world, Elizabeth is often asked: “How can I go on my own quest?” She struggled with the answer until she heard the following story about an Irish Catholic woman who grew up in a restrictive home during the 1950s and 1960s:

At age 28, the woman’s husband walked out, leaving her with five children, aged two months to ten years of age. Alone and poor, the woman made a promise to herself that someday she would see the world. She took out a coffee can and started depositing $1 each. She continued for twenty years, not touching that money. After all her children left home, she bought a ticket and sailed the world.

This story sparked a “Coffee Can Revolution” among Elizabeth’s readers and fans.

Quotable Quotes

Eat, Pray, Love provided women with a permission slip: Honor your own life and ask what serves you.

Perfectionism is a haute couture form of fear…fear in really good shoes.

Any inner voice that attacks you is not your highest self.

Good whispers will exalt you, and bad whispers will appall you.

You usually don’t choose change until the status quo is scarier than the transformation.

God is Grace…God is whatever lifts your face out of the dirt.

There’s always another level up. There’s always another ascension.

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.

Spotlight on Erin Bevan

Posted on September 24, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

I am happy to spotlight Erin Bevan and her debut novel, The Ranch Hand. Sit back and enjoy Erin’s delightful account of a writing journey that spanned two continents.

Here’s Erin!

I honestly still don’t feel like a real writer. I read all these blog posts from big name authors and they talk about how they spend hours upon hours a day writing because it’s their job and they knew it was their calling since they were a kid. That, my friends, was not me!

I starting writing about three years ago. Growing up, I hated to read. Loathed it, and writing, no way. When I was 25 I moved to South Korea with my husband and four month old baby girl. Living in a small town in South Korea, there wasn’t a large expat community, and hardly anyone in the town I lived in spoke English. My husband worked most days 12-14 hours, so I spent much of the time by myself with my daughter without the creature comforts of a car, a cellphone, a job, or friends. We had a television, but only two or three channels had English shows, and Netflix doesn’t work if you are outside of the US. What was a girl to do?

I started reading. Reading a lot. Then, one day, I got this bright idea I could write a book, so I did. I’ll be honest, it wasn’t very good! But, I learned that I loved writing and honestly, doing so saved me. Writing took my mind away from being lonely or feeling isolated. Within my stories (all of course in my head) I had tons of friends, hero’s, and enemies. I would walk around the apartment complex we lived in and think of scenes in my mind and my characters would start speaking to me. I guess that tells you I have voices in my head that talk to me.

Over the course of these past three years, I’ve learned a lot, about me and what type of writer I want to be, even what type of person I want to be. I joined writers groups and learned about submission calls for anthologies. In fact, that’s where the idea for The Ranch Hand came from. I read about a call for cowboy romance stories. I threw something together and submitted my story, only to be rejected. I decided since I wrote the story, I might as well try to submit it to other places, so after some revising, that’s what I did.

In December of 2013, I was so fed up with being rejected and told my work wasn’t good enough, that I had started to lose faith. The Ranch Hand was still out with one more publishing house for review. I had told myself that if this story get’s rejected again by this last editor then I was hanging up my hat as a writer. When I received the email from my editor, I almost deleted it. The first two paragraphs were nice ways of saying I sucked. My finger hovered over the delete button until I say the large “BUT” in chapter three. Chapters three and four told me that if I was willing to put in the work to make The Ranch Hand something better than what it was in it’s present state, then this editor was willing to work with me and she extended me a contract.

What a wonderful Christmas present that was!

I try to spend as much time as I can writing, but sometimes that only happens once a week. First, I’m a mother and wife. I suppose that’s why I don’t feel like a “real writer” because I sprinkle it in between the laundry, the dishes and dirty diapers. My life isn’t glamorous, but it’s a good one, and I’m so thankful I have found something that I love to do and that I didn’t give up.

Blurb

Jason Haverty is looking forward to the fall horse drive, until his boss and uncle informs him one of the new cowboys coming in to help will be riding his favorite horse. His annoyance is furthered when the cowboy turns out to be a cowgirl—a quick-witted and confident blonde beauty. Trying to avoid her doesn’t work. The more time he spends with her, the more an unexpected protectiveness toward her grows.

Bobby Jo’s Texas upbringing taught her to give just as good as she gets, a quality Jason finds frustrating and all the more endearing in this Southern Belle. When an accident on the trail places her in possible danger, Jason realizes she means more to him than he thought. The question is, does she feel the same?

Bio

Erin Bevan is a wife and mother of three. An avid reader, one day she decide to try her luck in writing stories of her own, and the idea paid off. She spends her days deep in the heart of Texas, fighting mosquitoes, cleaning dirty faces, and writing when the kids nap. If it’s a really good day, she even finds time to brush her hair.

Where to find Erin…

Website | Amazon | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Happy Release Day!

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

Spotlight on A Pretty Penny

Posted on September 19, 2014 by Joanne Guidoccio

I’m thrilled to spotlight Neva Brown’s second novel…

Blurb

Wealthy, arrogant Clayton Brandt knows well the costs of a woman. Not until Penelope (Penny) Jones comes into his life does he know the value of a woman.

Anger at Clayton, her new boss, causes Penny to snap out of the lethargy she’s experienced after seeing her husband killed. She puts to use all her innate abilities, learned skills, and intuitiveness to cope with the overbearing Clayton and the women in his life. Penny, in time, knows she loves him, but will not become one of his women—not on his terms.

On her terms, they marry only to be parted by federal agents before they leave their wedding reception. The ensuing intrigue, danger, and antics of Clayton’s ex-wife play a part in Penny being in eminent peril. Even after their love survives all this, it is once again threatened by a letter from a vindictive woman who is dead. The letter devastates Clayton and crushes his hopes for happiness.

How Clayton and Penny find their happy-ever-after is a breath-holding adventure at times and a breathtaking love story at other times.

Excerpt

Awestruck and wondering how a rodeo producer managed to have such a grandiose personal jet, Penny jumped in surprise at the clipped, commanding voice behind her. She turned and focused on the imposing man who extended a lean, hard hand for her to shake as he towered over her.

“I presume you’re Wilma’s little friend.”

His emphasis on “little” implied so much more than the fact that she was only five foot two, one hundred five pounds. She stiffened.

“I’m Penelope Ann Jones. And, yes, Wilma and I are friends.”

“I’m Clayton Brandt, your boss.” His icy stare chilled her from head to toe.

“Are you another of her projects, or can you do a day’s work for a day’s pay?”

Her haughtiness probably added to his irritation, but she wasn’t about to cower before this arrogant tyrant.

Stretching her neatly clad body and raising her eyes from his chest to his cold, gray eyes, she answered with an indifferent tone.

“I can do the work Wilma said would be expected of me, sir.”

She bit her tongue to keep from adding that she had a master’s degree in finance, held a CPA license, and had worked as a secretary all the way through college. Just because she had been following the rodeo did not make her incapable, just besotted with love.

He curtly dismissed her. “Get buckled up. The pilot is ready to take off.”

***

His woodsy scent and the feel of his hand still lingered in her memory. From her luxurious lounger, she continued to watch. He frowned at Wilma. His words became clear enough for Penny to hear.

“I thought we got through your ‘mother hen’ phase a few years back. Where did you find this one?”

Wilma’s longsuffering look made Penny strain to hear the reply.

“The ‘mother hen’ periods as you call them passed a long time ago. Penny is different. She was Jason’s wife, but none of our family even knew they were married. They’d been married almost a year when that bull killed him.”

“Then she’s a rich young widow. Why does she need to work?”

“Things aren’t quite what they seem. Jason never got around to changing his will and never had her sign a signature card to draw on his account at the bank. Being his usual distracted self, he just gave her cash. She had money but no permanent financial security.”

“So I guess you’re paying her bills. No wonder you want to put her to work.”

“Clayton, she was my baby brother’s wife and was ‘holed up’ in that fifth wheel at a trailer park with nothing but crackers and peanut butter. She’s smart and willing to work. You know I wouldn’t ask you to hire her if I didn’t believe she could do the job.”

He scowled at Wilma as she added, “I’d bet six month’s wages she’ll do a good job.”

“You may not have six month’s wages if she messes up. I don’t suffer fools and lazy people, as you well know. Right now, she looks like both to me,” he growled.

Penny let her eyelids shut completely at the hostile sound of his voice. A surge of adrenaline made her ears ring and her muscles twitch. Her anger churned, and her thoughts raced. Just who does this aging Adonis with a Neanderthal attitude think he is? Wilma thinks he hung the moon, and he acts like she is just some inconsequential employee when, in reality, she shields him from all kinds of thorny situations every day. She’s always telling me about the mountain of work she does to smooth the way for him. What an insufferable man!

Bio

Neva Brown, a retired secondary teacher/administrator, now enjoys the challenge of writing romance novels and doing editing for other romance writers.

Neva spent most of her life on West Texas ranches and uses that culture and environment in many of her stories. She and her husband now live at Rio Concho West in San Angelo, Texas. They enjoy visits from their two sons and their families, are always delighted to hear from old friends, and are amazed at how well they have adjusted to ‘city’ living.

Where to find Neva…

Website | Amazon |Facebook | Twitter | Google+

Neva loves to hear from her readers. She can be reached at joneva@suddenlink.net

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.