MEET BARBARA CARTER

I’m sure many readers will resonate with this week’s guest Barbara Carter, living with a burst of creativity inside and not knowing how to express it – life always gets in the way!

BARBARA CARTER was born in Nova Scotia, Canada. She is a visual artist and writer and is currently working on a series of memoirs focusing not only on her personal journey but highlighting important issues such as: anxiety, depression, loss and grief and the not so great ways of dealing with inner pain. Also living with a narcissistic mother. Barbara has an amazing ability to shed light on the sometimes dark subject matter with her ability to use humor. She also instructs art classes and offers guidance in writing memoir. The focus of her work is on examining the past in order to heal and move on.

My story is about learning how to follow my inner voice/intuition/soul.

As a child, I loved colouring books. At about the age of 10, I learned how to draw. There were no art classes taught in the schools I attended, so I was very much on my own. Later, in my teens, I purchased how-to art instruction books to help me learn more.

My dream at that time was to become an artist.

I was also drawn to writing, especially poetry and song lyrics.

But I felt I had to choose one or the other, that I couldn’t do both.

Living outside a small town in Nova Scotia, Canada life didn’t work out as I’d planned. No one encouraged me to pursue creative avenues and I lost hope, ending up on a self-destructive path.

After years of spiraling more and more out of control, I eventually managed to do what everyone else around me was doing: get married and have children.

Giving up on my earlier dreams, I tried desperately to suppress my inner voice, to deny my desire to create. I struggled to become what I thought I was supposed to be: to fit in and just be considered normal!

During this period, I’d stumbled upon quilting. I made necessary items for our home, such as quilts, chair cushions, curtains, etc. But it wasn’t enough. There was still this longing inside, a need to create my own images.

I had no money for art supplies, so one day, in a flash of inspiration I made use of the only materials I had on hand: fabric, thread, and needle.

My earlier creations were black, white and gray, the colours I’d been using just before giving up on my dream of becoming an artist.

When I first began creating my fabric images, I didn’t realize that I lacked joy and colour in my art, as I did in my life.

I was a shy, insecure young woman who didn’t know how to achieve the life I wanted. I had no idea that my images were anything more than a “picture” to hang on the wall, because I, as a person, didn’t realize I had anything of value to say.

Over time, I grew as an artist by my commitment to step out of my comfort zone, to contact strangers, to ask questions, and to seek answers. As I did this, my confidence also grew.

On that journey, I met many amazing people and learned how to show my art in galleries. It all seemed like a dream come true.

Skip ahead many more years to my mid-forties. My desire to write became overwhelming, and I felt that if I didn’t get whatever was inside of me out, I would literally lose my mind.

So I began to write, having no idea of how to properly go about doing it.

Once again, I simply followed my inner desire/voice.

After years of secretly writing on my own, I signed up for a creative writing course, and it was there that the voice of my child-self first emerged. She was a strong, powerful voice, pouring out thoughts and feelings that I had no idea were even inside of me.

As an adult I had blocked out who I’d been as a child, especially how I’d thought and felt growing up. Until I began writing, I had relied on the facts and the memories of others.

 

My first memoir, Floating in Saltwater, contains stories of my childhood, the lessons I learned, the questions I asked, the messages about life I received and the struggle to trust my inner voice.

My second memoir, Balancing Act, is about my early teen years, my struggle to fit in, and my need to find love, happiness, and freedom. It expresses how I dealt with an over-controlling mother, my anxiety, depression, the loss of young love, and the steps that led to a nervous breakdown at the age of 15.

I continue to follow my inner guidance and plan to write and release a series of memoirs that deal with various stages and issues in life. I hope that my journey, my words, can heal others on their own journey, and to encourage them to trust their intuition/inner voice, to find love and happiness, joy and peace, to address and finally, to lay their past wounds to rest.

Find me on Facebook at: Barbara Carter Author

https://www.facebook.com/Barbara-Carter-709937872489827/

Website: www.barbaratercarterartist.com

 

Barbara’s Web Page:  http://www.barbaracarterartist.com/index.html

I think Barbara proves what we all know, that until you’ve experienced life, had the knocks, the highs and the lows you are not as well equipped to write and share that pain and laughter with the world. You have more to give to your books and what they tell the world.  As the daughter of a narcissistic mother, I can relate to so much of what you say Barbara. Thank you for being my guest this week.

 

TRAVEL  – AMSTERDAM

In May of this year DH and I spent a week in Vienna, and after only half a day I fell in love with the city. It’s absolutely beautiful and steeped in history.

We stayed at the Erzherzog Rainer Hotel and I was thrilled to discover it had an interesting history as well. It’s located in the heart of the Freihausviertel also home to many small shops and was established in 1813 by Leopold Nedomansky who was the court supplier for picture frames. The appointment was quite an honour, except the nobles were lousy at paying their bills so he thought about businesses which demanded immediate payment – restaurants and lodgings. He went ahead and built a hotel, but was savvy enough to realize he needed a patron to give it a bit of class. He flattered Archduke Rainer by naming the hotel after him and he was on the road to success. – I’ve always said it’s ‘who you know’.

The same family owned it for 80 years before selling it to another family of hoteliers, but in that time it has been used as lodgings for the top German soldiers during the Second World War, and if I remember Hedda Hopper and a couple of other famous people have also stayed there. And now, of course, there’s me too.

HISTORY

Now you must all have heard that behind every great man there is a woman – or preferably in front if the truth be known. In this case, as poor old George was catapulted onto the throne, the woman, lady behind, beside and in front of him was his wife, Elizabeth Bowes Lyon, a Scottish lass who had married the Prince several years before.

She was brought up in this little shack north of the English border.

RED CHEEKED BIT

I’ve shared the opening pages of the Amie series here, now it’s time for the three memoirs. My first one, Walking over Eggshells sold all of 37 copies in the initial twelve months after it was published – before I found out I had to tell people about it – I had this belief that people would magically find it all by themselves!

 https://www.books2read.com/u/md7Py3

The first time I tried to leave home, I was three years old. Not that I could have told you that at the time, but many years later, while looking at some childhood photos, I asked my mother what age I was when I wore the red hat and coat. “Three,” she replied, and I remember quite clearly putting them on for my first intended escape into the outside world.

It was a cold, overcast day in a quiet suburb of Dublin at the beginning of the fifties. We were in the lounge, and my mother was sitting by the fire listening to the radio. I walked quietly to the door, hoping she wouldn’t notice, but as I reached up towards the door handle, she reminded me in her cold, hard voice not to let the cold air in from the hallway. I opened the door just wide enough to squeeze through and pulled it shut behind me.

I dived under my bed and pulled out a small brown, cardboard suitcase. I’d thought about this departure for some time and had already made a mental list of what I would need on the journey to my new life. I packed three Noddy books, my favourite doll, a comb and a clean pair of underpants. I struggled into my coat and hat and I was ready to run away.

Quietly, I crept back along the hallway to the front door and gazed up at the door latch. It was way above my head.

“And where do you think you’re going?” My mother stood in the lounge doorway, her arms folded across her chest and she looked furious. Having got this far, there was no turning back.

“I’m leaving home,” I squeaked.

“Oh, really? And where are you going?”

“I’m, uh …” I knew exactly where I was going. I’d thought about it very carefully, but I was not about to tell my mother. She would know where I was and maybe, just maybe, come and try to bring me back.

“Little girls who want to leave home should be tall enough to reach the doorknob. If you go, then don’t bother coming back. I never want to see you again. I don’t want you. You’re nothing but a nuisance. I wanted a good little girl who would do as she was told, not a bad, bad little girl like you.” My mother went back into the lounge and slammed the door.

I blinked back the tears. Why couldn’t my mother love me? I tried so hard to be good. Earlier that morning I had broken a glass full of milk. It had slipped out of my hands and crashed to the floor.

“Look what you’ve done now!” screamed my mother.

“I’m sorry, Mummy, it fell,” I burst into tears.

“Clear it up right now!”

“Yes, yes, but please don’t be cross with me, please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I was shaking as I looked at the mess on the floor. The milk was slowly disappearing under the stove.

“You never give me any reason to like you. You’re always saying ‘sorry.’ If you really meant it, you wouldn’t do the same thing again and again and again. You said ‘sorry’ when you broke my best cup. I suppose that just fell, too? Don’t say ‘sorry.’ ‘Sorry’ doesn’t mean anything to you.”

As soon as my mother had gone back into the lounge, I dragged a chair from the kitchen, climbed up and opened the front door. I jammed the suitcase in the gap and returned the chair to its place in the kitchen. Then, as quickly as I could, I grabbed the case and ran down the front driveway.

Till next week, take care.

 

MEET LINDA KOVIC-SKOW

My guest this week is Linda Kovic-Skow (and I forgot to ask her the origin of her surname it’s very unusual). She’s written books about her time in France which I thoroughly enjoyed.

Please tell us a little about yourself.

Originally from Seattle, I currently winter in Saint Petersburg, Florida and spend summers on a boat in the Pacific Northwest Waters of Washington and British Columbia. I’ve been married for 32 years and I have two daughters. I am an enthusiastic traveler, but I also enjoy hiking, boating, reading, gardening and socializing with friends.

 

Can you tell us about your memoirs?

In the summer of 1979, when I was twenty-one and working as a medical assistant, I wanted a career change. I was thrilled when my resume landed me an interview with World Airways, but they encouraged all of their flight attendants to speak a second language. I was broke at the time, so I decided that French immersion was the best solution, and a job as an au pair would enable me to accomplish my goal in the shortest amount of time. To secure the position, I…er…well…I lied on my application and pretended to speak the language—fully aware my lie would be discovered once I arrived at my destination. Based on my diaries, French Illusions: My Story as an American Au Pair in the Loire Valley, recounts my adventure working as a nanny in France. The sequel, French Illusions: From Tours to Paris, recounts the rest of my adventure in France.

Were these difficult books to write?

I have to admit writing my memoir was a lot more complex than I initially imagined it would be. My diary offered a great outline, but I had to research and fill in, hard-to-find data on the Loire Valley, the Loire River and the town of Tours. Internet searches produced most of the information and travel books supplied the rest. From the beginning, difficult questions emerged, such as how to deal with the French sprinkled throughout the book, and how to format my internal thoughts. Oh, and I really struggled with how much detail to include in my own love scenes. Wiping the sweat off my brow, I wrote and then rewrote these scenes until I could read them without squirming in my seat.

Do you have a favorite chapter in either of your books? Why?

 Ahhh…my favorite chapters to write came in the last section of my memoir. Throughout most of the story, circumstances required me to internalize my discontent and unhappiness with my employer at the Château de Montclair. Within these last pages, I finally had the opportunity to expose my true feelings in vivid scenes filled with passion and drama. It was a thrilling, rewarding experience.

 

Do you have a video trailer to promote your book? If yes, where can readers find it?

Yes. You will find my video at http://lindakovicskow.com. I searched the internet for weeks, listening to French music, trying to choose a song for my book trailer. When I heard “Imposture” by Danielle Pauly, from the album Café de Paris, my heart lurched. I loved the melody. I wasn’t sure what the title meant in French so I looked up the translation. It meant “fraud.” The song was perfect.

Linda Kovic-Skow is an award-winning nonfiction travel author. She is also the creator of AmazingAudioBooks.com, a website where you’ll find highly-rated audiobooks for $15 or less. (This I took from her author page – and, I see she has a blog too. When you read this Linda please send me the link).

Do your books have an underlying message that readers should know about?

Set in the beautiful Loire Valley, my memoir will remind older readers what it was like to be young, adventurous and filled with dreams. Younger readers will relate to the difficult decisions women make as they transition into adulthood. My hope is that both of these groups will come away from my book realizing it’s not too late to create your own memories. Go out and explore the world. Life’s for living, after all.

What is the most rewarding part of being an author?

Once I published my memoir and put it out there to the world, I hoped, more than anything else, that people would enjoy it. Positive reviews, whether voiced or written, put me over the moon with happiness.

My website: http://lindakovicskow.com

Put some time aside one weekend and dive into Linda’s books, you won’t regret it! And thank you Linda.

Till next time, take care.

 

SUSAN P BAKER

This week’s author lives in Mexico – another place on my bucket list – Susan I’ll be over soon! No, don’t panic my bank manager would be at the airport AK47 at the ready.

We’re in exalted company as Susan was a lawyer and then a judge and so all her books have a legal base, one of my favourite genres.

Susan is also a grandmother and is a prolific writer with five novels and 2 non fiction books to date. And she likes chocolate, so we know she is one of us. You can find out more on her website  www.susanpbaker.com

She’s suggested I mention two of her books and the first one is My First Murder, the first book she wrote and it is FREE so you can grab a copy here. https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B013XEIUMO

or here on the universal link https://www.books2read.com/u/4jKNoD

Mavis Davis, a likable, new-to-the-job private investigator, not only has one of the wackiest office staffs in mystery fiction, but also goes about solving her first crime in her own, independent, highly interesting way. When greasy-spoon cafe owner Carl Singleton shows up wanting to hire Mavis to solve the murder of one of his waitresses, Doris Jones, a woman with whom he has fallen in love, Mavis reluctantly takes the job especially when Carl confesses that all the other private investigators in Houston have turned him down. But, facts are facts, and Mavis has to face that she has bills to pay that serving legal papers won’t cover.  Though the Houston Police Department, including Mavis’ boyfriend Sgt. Ben Sorensen, get in her face and try to discourage her, Mavis dives head first into the case. What she learns is, there is scandal deep in the heart of Texas. She only hopes she can uncover it before it’s too late for her.

Unaware is Susan’s latest book.

What you don’t know CAN hurt you.  Frustrated with the two controlling men in her life, Dena Barlow Armstrong has outlined a rosy future for herself and her children, independent of them. Her husband, Zack, constantly pushes her to turn over her inheritance to him, and when she doesn’t, he punishes her with his indifference. Her law partner and cousin, Lucas, controls her money and the types of cases she accepts.

Just as Dena begins to achieve her goal of independence, someone emerges with very different plans for her. Unaware of the danger she faces, Dena lives her life as a wife, mother, and attorney. Then one day when her husband is out of town, the stranger lurks in her garage, waiting until she and the children go to bed…

This standalone novel is Susan P. Baker’s sixth mystery/suspense novel.

Here is the link so go have a look (I’m told proper marketing people tell the public what to do – whereas I would probably write why not take a look? But I’m getting tough these days!!) https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XTV5PTP  I’m off to get it right now 🙂 so I’ve persuaded myself, I must be a good salesperson after all!

Have a great week and take care.

ANGELIQUE CONGER

This week’s author came up with a question many of us might have thought about for a moment and then dismissed it as one of those unexplained events.  Angelique Conger took this one step further and wrote a whole book about it. I think it’s a really novel (excuse the pun) idea. In Angelique’s own words …

Have you ever wondered about Eve? I did. I wanted to know how she managed life in a new world. How did she have that first child by herself, did someone help her? Then I wondered, how many children did she have? And how did they think about writing? And, did they live in a cave or in the open or build a house? All these questions left me wondering. The only way I could find the answers was to write a book.

I’ve lived a while, I’ve thought about this a long time. And when it came time to write her story, it felt like she sat beside me, whispering into my ear. I’d reach a block and not know what could possibly happen next. All I could do is walk away from it. When I came back and set my fingers on the keys, the answers were there. Some questions couldn’t be answered. Eve had no idea what happened.

Each day’s writing was a miracle to me.  Writing is a miracle for me. Before that November day in 2013, when I started this, I had never been able to set down a decent short story. After 3 months, I had a decent start in rough draft form.  Those were tough years, and I learned a lot.

Through it all, Eve has become my friend. Ancient Matriarchs: Eve First Matriarchs is her story. Each new tale I write comes easier, though none are ready without lots of extra work, they are coming easier.

Ancient Matriarchs, Into the Storms, Ganet Wife of Seth will be ready to join Eve, First Matriarch on your kindle or bookshelf soon.

I just love that cover don’t you? Here are the buyinglinks https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MU4KRWT/

To find out more about about an amazing lady with such an original idea you can visit her website  http://AngeliqueCongerAuthor.com where you can sign up for a free book.

Does anyone know, is that an apple tree on the banner at the top of Angelique’s web page? just thought how appropriate that would be.

PLEASE DON’T BE MY FRIEND

The other day I posted the following on my Facebook Timeline.

Dear Prospective Face Book Friend, I do understand that you may be looking for pen pals and maybe even a romantic connection, especially if you are posted abroad in a war zone. However, despite this being a public page, I use it to chat to my reader and writer friends and exchange hints, reviews, and other marketing information. So it’s probably not the kind of page you are looking for – besides, I’m a happily married grandmother, who’s rapidly losing the wrinkle war. I hate to decline friends, so I hope you’ll understand and not make a friend request.

Yes, I know I come across as hard, overbearing and pretty unpleasant, but I’m really a softie inside and I don’t like to refuse a friendship, my page is public after all. The problem is, I don’t like to be rude or offend, but then (like many of us) I get bombarded with virtual roses and bottles of drink and even more flowery comments.

I was also hoping my post would deter the ones from humans who, deep down, may not be genuinely interested in me and my books. For example I had one who asked me what I was wearing. Ah, I thought, s/he was curious about writers and their habits, so I told it (with a name like Alex it wasn’t easy to tell). I’m sitting here I wrote in my usual creative gear, my fluffy red and white pyjamas liberally adorned with red reindeer and Xmas trees (I bought them around Christmas time) under my red furry dressing gown with the rabbit on the pocket, a pair of free airline socks and my favourite reindeer slippers. (They may be mooses, I’m not quite sure).

I was then treated to a picture of my new friend. S/he wasn’t wearing very much at all and what s/he was wearing defied comprehension.  DELETE! DELETE! DELETE!

So with the very best intentions, I hoped my post would not subject me to such heart-stopping shocks, (it’s not good to call the paramedics in too often), this post will do the trick I thought.

Sure enough a few minutes later I got a friend request from a dear little granny living in France. She looked so cute and cuddly, grey wavy hair, delightful smile, pretty dress. Great, I thought another fan friend who has heard about my brilliant books and can’t wait to read them, she might even buy one, or two, or three, or four. I cheerfully pressed accept and said how happy I was to connect with her.

In just a couple of minutes she private messaged me, telling me how thrilled she was to be my friend. She lives in France, and she was dying of cancer. How sad I thought, my fingers were poised to send her virtual hugs, hearts and kisses.  She was a widow previously married to an English entrepreneur, (I hadn’t noticed at this point she had a German surname) and he had been killed in a car crash with their only daughter. I reached for my hanky

and upped my mental reply to include a bunch of virtual roses (I was trying to decide if a bottle of plonk would be suitable as well in this instance). She continued by telling me she had 10.5 million Euro in the bank and if I promised to donate it to various charities….I could keep 20% for myself.

I groaned. Yes, it’s what we called in South Africa a 411 letter – they want your name, bank account number, the date you stopped being breast fed, your inside leg measurement and all your pin numbers.

What a disappointment. Off I go to Facebook to do the blocking and reporting thing – DELETE! DELETE! DELETE!  But FB do send you a nice apology don’t they – saying they’re sorry you’ve been subjected to this.

They can’t still be catching people out with this scam surely? Did s/he think I was born yesterday? Well maybe looking at my avatar…?

Now the big question of course is, she’s given me her private email address, so do you think I can add it to my Mailchimp list so she’ll get my monthly newsletter? I’m a bit worried she might unsubscribe.

You can subscribe if you like http://eepurl.com/cBu4Sf