The Story Behind the Story: ONE RED SHOE by Diane Burton

Assassins, killers, and spies. Oh my! My upcoming release does not have paranormal elements, nor does it take place in space. So, no aliens, shape-shifters, or ghosts. I hope you’ll indulge me anyway. Here's the origin of ONE RED SHOE.

Once upon a time, many, many years ago, at a local romance writers meeting (Mid-Michigan RWA), one of the members presented a writing exercise. The only clue was this: you’re on a train platform and someone is running toward you.

The first thing that popped into my head was: the man running toward her on the subway platform wore one red shoe. I wrote as fast as I could until time was up. When we shared our pieces, I was amazed at the variety. One person wrote about a man going off to war, and his sweetheart ran toward him to say good-bye. Another met a friend. And so on. If I recall correctly (and it was years ago) mine was the only one that hinted at danger. You see, the red in the shoe was blood.

That mini-story stuck in my head for years. I wrote, rewrote, and wrote more until I had a complete story. The central theme remained the same: a schoolteacher writer from Iowa rescues a wounded spy in a New York City subway. Daria is a wide-eyed optimist, going to NYC for the first time, ending up there on her own. I remember my first time at a writers’ conference in NYC. I was older and not that naïve. Still, I did play Fan Girl when I met my favorite authors. Consequently, I used some of those feelings for Daria’s emotions.

As the story progresses, the reality of assassins chasing them sinks in, and Daria changes. At first, she lets Sam (the wounded spy) dictate their escape. Each time, the assassins nearly catch them. Dara’s strength emerges as she takes over the rescue. I loved watching (writing) her character arc. Very rewarding.

For several rewrites, the first line remained the same until I went to another writing conference. I’d never ridden on the subway in NYC. Toronto and DC, yes; New York City, no. To make my story authentic, I had to see what it looked like, so I talked a group of friends into going with me, and we rode the subway. At night, no less. I’ll never forget the sights and smells, which I had to include in the story.

Six years ago, I submitted this story to The Wild Rose Press. They accepted and published it. I just received the rights back, and now I’m reissuing it myself. That half-hour writing session turned into one of my favorite books.

Blurb:

It Happened One Night meets Knight and Day

When elementary teacher Daria Mason left Iowa for a writers’ conference in New York City, she didn’t expect to come home with a wounded spy. Sam Jozwiak works for a shadow agency that gathers intel vital to U.S. security. From the moment he steals digital files from a Russian Mafia kingpin, Murphy’s Law takes over. No matter how he covers his tracks, the kingpin’s assassins find him. What’s worse than getting shot in the butt? Accepting help from an Iowa tourist. Thus, begins a road trip that takes Sam and Daria cross country with the assassins right behind them.

Excerpt:

For the second time in her life, Daria Mason came face-to-face with a man pointing a weapon at her. A pervert, with unzipped jeans, wielded a green box knife. Because she’d raced into the restroom without checking out the situation, he now stood between her and the exit.

She was at the end of the proverbial rope. After walking in circles, she finally found a restroom and nobody was stopping her from using it. Especially not someone playing copycat with that guy in the movie who wore one red shoe.

“I am having a really bad day,” she declared in the don’t cross me voice she used on her brothers. As soon as her words echoed off the hideous pink and black tiled walls and floor, she lowered her voice. “You are in the wrong place, mister. Now zip up and get out.” She pointed straight-armed toward the door.

The man shook his head and set the flimsy knife on the counter. “Lady, you have more guts than sense. You are in the wrong place, at the wrong time.” His voice was even softer than hers. He eyed her with a look so dark and intense it paralyzed her like a hawk freezes its prey. She swallowed past the fear in her throat, certain it sounded like a gulp.

ONE RED SHOE will be released on Monday, October 22, 2018. It's available for pre-order:  http://a.co/d/8DH9M5H

Identifying and treating a loved one suffering from...NaNoWriMo

by Maureen L. Bonatch 

Dear abandoned non-writer, 

I've received your recent inquiry about the odd behavior of your loved one. It's understood that you use the term 'odd behavior' loosely, as you've come to accept the many unusual characteristics displayed by a loved one who is a...writer.

The symptoms you describe are indeed disturbing, but after a glance at the calendar, I believe I may have found the diagnosis...and the cure. 

I believe your loved one may suffer from...NaNoWriMo! 

Please don't become upset over the unusual term, it's really just an abbreviation for the more cumbersome title, National Novel Writing Month. The good news is that it only lasts for the month of November. Your loved one should return to their normal self—though exhausted, depleted, and often exhilarated—come the start of December. 

Please review this partial list of symptoms to confirm this diagnosis for yourself to see if it does indeed, match your loved one's odd behavior which has become even more...unusual.  

Symptoms:

• Mutters things they claim to be the 'ramblings of characters' (Don't try to commit them yet)
• A vast increase in their caffeine consumption (Don't point out how shaking makes typing harder)
• Reducing their hours of sleep to 'get their words in' (Brings a whole new meaning to the walking dead)
• Began carrying around a laptop to tap away on during all free hours of the day 
• Started decorating the home office with sticky notes scrawled with illegible partial sentences
• Stares off into space for long periods of time and claim they are 'working on their story' when they don't hear your repeated questions (This isn't the time to recommend a hearing test)
• Neglecting basic household tasks (Mentioning Halloween is over so the spiderwebs can go will only anger them- if they hear you say it)
• Insists leftovers, or sandwiches, make the best meals (Just eat it and smile- or they might write you into their story just to kill you off)

The list of symptoms continues, but basically your loved one is no longer 'there' most of the day. They've 'left' to immerse themselves into their story. Don't try to fight it, or question the rewards of this sacrifice, your writer knows what they are and the lure is more intoxicating than any cult...they can't resist.

Cure:

• Toss pieces of chocolate at your loved one if they snarl out acronyms like GMC, HEA or WIP
• Don't point out their reduced hygiene or dark circles forming under their eyes (see above)
• Offer to make dinner...or better yet, household chores—because everyone loves clean underwear
• Read a book and escape into your own fantasy world
• Suggest a trip to the mall or coffee shop for inspiration for character quirks (ensure you have a tablet  and a pen or you may be forced to seek out napkins & alternate writing utensils)
• If all else fails...avoid them until December

Remind yourself that this one month will bring your loved one a great sense of accomplishment and...a new story for the world.

Because there are never enough stories

Good Luck,

The Word Whisperer

Do you or your loved ones suffer from NaNo? If so, what remedies would you like to share?

Available Now!

Maureen L. Bonatch's stories boast laughter, light suspense and something magical in the hope of sharing her love of finding the extraordinary in the ordinary world.    

Find her:

Writing on her Website
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The Birth of a Story

A few years ago, as I sat in the car outside of a convenience store, an old payphone on the side of the building started to ring.  I’d been to this store a million times and hadn’t even realized a payphone was still there.

No one was around eagerly waiting for a call, and everyone walked by it, not even giving it a second glance.  No one answered it.  As it rang on, I wondered who would be calling a payphone in this day and age when everyone has a cell phone?  How would they have the number? Should I answer it?  If so, what would they say?

 Too late…the ringing stopped, unable to deliver the message it intended to deliver.  

As I mulled over this, my character introduced her story by saying, “It was about a month ago I stopped being a redhead.”

Thus, birthed my story, DESTINY CALLING. 

My story process

           

            I’m always curious where stories begin.  Wondering how the mind works, as I’ve noticed that often the writers mind appears to be wired just a little different.  Such as my immediate assumption, as I struggled to open the sticking door to our garage was that… this was how I was going to die. A murderer would break into the house and as I fumbled with my weak grip to flee from death…and failed. 

When I told my husband this he said, “It’s probably from the change in temperature.”

            True, but still a possibility that I may perish as this opportunity awaits the mass murderers that are lurking in my imagination. 

            Or when the neighbors were building the house next door and I was pretty darn sure there was a body buried in that pile of dirt and putting the house up was merely a guise to hide the corpse…

I’d like to share the 80,000-word story that was birthed from a ringing payphone.  Here’s a taste of what grew into DESTINY CALLING.

Vengeance lures 21-year-old Hope Hallows back to the outskirts of Pittsburgh, not just to the family who abandoned her, but also to the breeding ground for malevolent beings, which feed off despair. Gifted with the ability to infuse euphoria or utter desperation with her touch, Hope must face both her inner demons and the ones walking the earth. Struggling with forgiving her family, and resisting the man enticing her with the power of the Underworld, she discovers she's a pawn in a bigger game played by a merciless ruler who doesn't lose.

I don’t have a beautiful cover to post with it, yet.  It only exists in my mind right now, and you don’t want to go there.  It can be a dark, scary place. 

If you’re a reader, what interests you about the stories you read or the authors that create them?  If you’re a writer, how are your stories conceived?  Thanks for stopping by.

Rejuvenation for This Writer's Soul

It's July, and I can say that honestly, it's not that hot here compared to last year. At this time last year, we had been in the hundreds for weeks. It was so hot that the pavement burned my feet even after the sun went down at night. We've been swimming, writing, job hunting, and getting ready for RWA Nationals in Anaheim this year.

RWA Nationals

I love this event, in large part because I get to see friends that I only see once a year at Nationals. Nearly all in attendance are authors—they speak my language as it were—and they don’t' look at me like I'm cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs when I gripe about stubborn characters or worse, loud ones. They get me. I get them.

We're going to be right next door to Disneyland and Disneyphile that I am, I want to try and escape into the parks at least one of the days of my visit. I also have a lot of good friends on the West Coast, dear friends that I rarely get to see, so hooking up with them will be a plus. Definitely one of the most magical places to reconnect not only with old friends, but also myself.

Painted Desert

One of the best parts of Nationals this year will be driving through the desert in New Mexico and Arizona. I love to stop at night, in the middle of nowhere and actually see the Milky Way. After years of city living, it's heartening to look up and see the galaxy we're a part of. So often, as a writer, I get caught up in the worlds that I create and inhabit in the bits and bytes of my computer screen. I forget to look at the world around me and truly appreciate it.

A drive through the desert is one way to remind me of this greater world, this universe we're all a part of.

Sunset on the Pacific

Anaheim is also not that far from the Pacific Ocean—definitely not as far as it is from where I live. I plan to escape the hotel and venture down to the beach. I want to sit there, somewhere along the shore, with the wind brushing my cheeks, the smell of the salt air and the sun setting into the water.

Pure magic.

Rejuvenating the Writer's Soul

Last year at RWA Nationals in New York, I made a commitment to myself and this year, I get to celebrate the one year anniversary of that commitment, celebrate the accomplishments I've made and celebrate the world that I live in. As an author, I get to live a thousand lives, but as me, I only get this one. I can't wait to enjoy every moment of it.

What are your plans this July?