Blog - Karen A. Chase

Advice from the 40s

March 4, 2014 By Karen A. Chase

"You're never to old to eat ice cream." — “You’re never to old to eat ice cream.”

Today is my birthday! So, now I’m 43. I know what you’re thinking. “Oy! Really? Well, that explains her roots.” Yes, it does, hence the hats. Gray hairs aside, I don’t feel my age. In part, because I have role models my age who are awesome.

For instance, all the chicks in my neighborhood named Karen (and a few others). We are all over 40 and many of us are just ramping up. But there are also famous people my age who are amazeballs, like Tina Fey. On turning 40 she said, “I need to take my pants off as soon as I get home. I didn’t used to have to do that. But now I do.” I refer to Tina’s 43 wise quotes whenever I begin to feel old.

A recent New York Times article by Pamela Druckerman highlights what she knows now that she’s 44. One of my favorites, “There are no grown-ups… Everyone is winging it, some just do it more confidently.”

Following this vein and quote, I thought I would add just a few key things I know now:

• 1 drink=relaxing. 2=fun. 3=-hangover.

• 1 cup of coffee=perky. 2=poop. 3=A.D.D.

• I’m still uncertain if cow’s milk does a body good, or is bad for humans.

• There are three instances when it’s best to keep my mouth shut:
– In public restrooms
– When cleaning the litterbox
– Around my boyfriend’s children

• Men want a woman’s hands to be clean and pretty because they picture them in dirty places. (Go ask, I’ll wait.)

• If you’re posting unexplained crisis-driven comments on Facebook like “Pray for me,” or “Why is this happening to me?” it’s probably better to call a therapist than to post on social media.

• Anytime I’ve wondered, “Does this outfit look okay?” it absolutely does not.

• Nothing ruins a great outfit, or a witty personality like halitosis. Find someone you love who is honest and breathe in their face. (Note: The person checking your halitosis cannot also have halitosis. Find a dentist.)

• I shouldn’t buy into my own BS. By the time I’m 44, most of the above will sound like a load of bologna.

• This blog is more than my allotted 250 words and is on Tuesday not Friday, but we should think like pirates. There are no rules. There are merely guidelines!

Dealing with Doubt

February 28, 2014 By Karen A. Chase

This painting by Henrietta Rae is actually called "Doubts." There he is behind her, that rascal. — This painting by Henrietta Rae is actually called “Doubts.” There he is sneaking up behind her, that good-for-nothing rascal.

Doubt is a natural thing for authors–for just about any profession. So I’m sharing a method to get rid of it. Personification.

Doubt. He’s a cold fish in a dusty old striped suit, with a ridiculous hat over a sharp nose. Sometimes he slips in a door I thought I’d shut behind me and slithers into a chair. He sniffs at me, clearly unimpressed with my work and determination.

“Really?” he says, “Are you sure you can do this?” His British accent sounds contrived.

I nod and mumble, “Go away. You’re not helping.”

“Ah, so you aren’t quite certain,” he raises a thin eyebrow. He smells stale, but the pompous manner in which he crosses one leg over the other gives the impression he thinks otherwise.

I try to reason away my uncertainty, “It’s not just me, you know. Even famous writers wonder if… If…”

“If today they’ll discover you’re a fraud?”

I hate it when he’s eloquent on days I’m not. I hate the way he picks the dirt from beneath his nails and flicks it to the floor. As if that bit of dirt is me.

Doubt is about to speak again when I hear a woman say, “Doubt can make you work harder. But he’s destructive. Unhelpful. He can’t stay.”

Gumption is here! That chick is kick-ass, and she empowers me. I point to the door, “Get out, Doubt! I’ve work to do.”

As Doubt slinks away, Gumption winks at me, “You’ve got this.” Yes. I do.

Editing Historical Fiction

February 21, 2014 By Karen A. Chase

I read that Dan Brown takes about two years to research a novel, and another two to write. Editing adds to the process, because it involves those first two steps. Using The DaVinci Code, and the assumption that Brown wrote it from beginning to end, I’ll explain how (with some conjecture).

Year one: Brown sees DaVinci’s painting and thinks, “that guy next to Jesus looks like a chick.” A quick Google search… she could be Mary Magdalene? “Betchya the church would have killed to keep that a secret.” Bing! Book idea. So now he researches Bible lore galore, secret codes, and the history of France and Rome. Maybe he writes chapter one.

Year two: More research! He has to go to Paris (poor guy) and the Vatican. In Italy he writes three more chapters.

Year three: Writes continually. Decides the female character must be the descendent of Jesus and Mary. Serious plot changes.

End of year four: Book done. (Party!)

Year five: Editing. Back to chapter one. Wow, it kind of sucks. It’s four years old. He has read a few books on writing historical fiction since then. He’s also seen the Louvre, and the pyramids are not where he put them. He has to apply fours years of knowledge to every old word.

So, that’s where I am now. I’m editing my American Revolution manuscript (again), but now as an author who is four years older. Better read. Wiser about the history. But, I thank Mary Magdalene that I am.

Self-Publishing Tips

January 31, 2014 By Karen A. Chase

Last week I discussed the changes I’ve seen in self-publishing. I gave a talk on the subject, and then just this week I attended another self-publishing panel discussion. Many ideas and tips came out of all that preparation and chatting, and so I thought I’d share the whole big lot of them in one document.

You can get it here: HOW TO SELF-PUBLISH LIKE A PROFESSIONAL

Please note that the links I have in here are not endorsing the companies listed (except of course my own). These are just some businesses and references I’ve come across that have helped me figure out the industry and self-publishing steps.

My biggest tip? Be curious. Write. Write. Write–of course. And then learn the industry like your livelihood depends on it. It actually does.

Good luck.

Tips, thoughts and corrections are all welcome. What do you know?

Self-publishing Changes

January 24, 2014 By Karen A. Chase

Today I’m on my way to give a seminar on self-publishing at the Roanoke Regional Writers Conference. I gave a similar talk last June to a smaller group, but the publishing world is in constant change, so I’m scrambling to gather new information.

I do know that self-published authors are now also called Indie Publishers or Author-publishers. Only about 32% of Indie authors were rejected by traditional publishers, and now even authors like Jackie Collins have self-published e-books. Authors who self-publish and traditionally publish are called Hybrid Authors. Hybrids are the most successful, earning four times as much as the self-published.

There used to be six big publishers, now there are five. Self-published used to mean doing it all, but now there are middle-men companies, like Booktrope and AuthorHouse. With them, authors retain copyrights but have help with professional editing, design and book packaging. Even PR groups like Smith Publicity, provide self-published book promotion options.

Once considered lame, self-published is now considered cool. We’re like Indie film-makers. While publishers mass-produce books their distributors want to sell, we create what readers want to buy and read. More of us are paying for professional editors and book covers now, too.

What hasn’t changed is very simple. Those authors (self or otherwise) who earn the most spend more of their time writing. They spend almost 70% more time writing, write 1/3 more, and do the least amount of marketing. They write books for readers. They don’t sell to them.

How has self-publishing changed for you?

American Thrift Hustle

January 17, 2014 By Karen A. Chase

70sVintage — I found this fabulous vintage 70s dress for $45.

Happy New Year. In light of the oh-so-fabulous American Hustle movie winning at the Golden Globes, I’m sharing my little secret to finding that vintage (or used) fashion.

In 2013 I made the resolution to only buy used clothing (with the exception of swimsuits, shoes and underwear obviously). What did I find?

In vintage shops, I found one-of-a-kind skirts and dresses with amazing styling. But then I found an owner of a vintage shop in a Salvation Army buying pieces to resell, so I started to shop with even more thrift. I discovered that in the fancier neighborhoods, I could buy designer clothing with the tags still on them. Clothing that others thought was “so last year.” Some of it was last century.

I also found more time because clothing wasn’t my focus. And I found more money in my pocket, with a few more dollars to invest in nicer shoes that would last longer. In all, I figure I spent about $250-300 on thrift items and saved over $1500.

Discovering this second-hand life, allows me more time and money for this one–and it’s loaded with decades of styles. So I’ll stick to thrift-shopping in 2014, with a little hustle and haggling thrown in for fun.

SnowPants — Snow pants. Yes they’re Pepto-Bismal pink, but they were $20, and no one was going to recognize me so covered up.

Dress from a consignment store, $30. My mother's 1960s hat, and an old sweater of mine. — Dress from a consignment store, $30. Tags were still on it. My mother’s 1960s hat, and an old sweater of mine.

I guess the whole throwing an outfit together started early. Me at age 4 or 5 with borrowed jewelry and glasses. — I guess the whole throwing a thrifty outfit together started early. Me at age 4 or 5 with borrowed jewelry and glasses.

Winter’s Eve: The Last Gift

December 20, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

Below is the last chapter of Winter’s Eve–a six part holiday story.
If you have missed previous pieces:
The First Gift ~ The Second Gift ~ The Third Gift ~ The Fourth Gift ~ The Fifth Gift

It was the night before Christmas. My sniffles had receded, but my worry had deepened. Morning would bring my granddaughter one tiny doll; something to hold, but not enough to replace all she’d lost. She sat with me as I made our hot cocoa.

“Where’s the cinnamon?” I asked. A knock at our door interrupted her reply.

When I opened it, Charley bounded in. Doc Blue came holding Miss Paige’s hand and a book. Then came Mrs. Mittens carrying scarves. Miss Rose brought colorful bows. Mr. Crumb presented a cinnamon spice pie. “Thank you for bringing us together,” he said. They all looked past me to my granddaughter.

“It was you?” I saw her anew. Despite having lost the most, she had thoughtfully saved coal for weeks, ribbon for months, shared cinnamon and a story.

She nodded, “I thought it was better for all to be warm than some too hot, or too cold… Not everything cherished comes wrapped in ribbon… The green in our hands can be woven for others… Friends add spice… Books provide great adventures… Better to love another than a fairy tale.”

All night we rejoiced together, feasting and reading by the fire. Our home, once again full. As she nodded off in my lap, my granddaughter whispered, “A family isn’t given, Grandpapa. It comes from giving.”

Happy Holidays.
Wish granted.

…And so it was we all received the last gift. On this magical Christmas night, in our mountaintop village, Winter. From my granddaughter. Eve.

. . . . . . The End . . . . . .

Happy Holidays to you all.
See you again in the New Year.

Winter’s Eve: The Fifth Gift

December 13, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

Below is an installment of Winter’s Eve–a six part holiday story.
If you have missed previous pieces:
The First Gift ~ The Second Gift ~ The Third Gift ~ The Fourth Gift

Miss Paige told me later that when Doc Blue and Charley came to the library, the stacks were silent “like always.” Readers often came and went with joyous tales, but books and bindings couldn’t provide what she wished for. Love. Shelves held a thousand romances with handsome princes, but honestly she hoped for just one Mr. Knightly.

One afternoon, she had been moving a towering stack of books, when her life changed. “Hello?” rang a lonely voice with the bell.

“Coming,” said Miss Paige, the volumes in her arms hiding her visitor from sight. As she peered around the pile, it wavered and tumbled to the floor. She bent to retrieve the books, and knocked her head against something just as solid. Through spinning stars, she saw him.

Illuminated. That was how she described her first sight of Doc Blue, rubbing his own head. Charley bounded between them. Miss Paige blushed as the two of them gathered the books. Their fingers grazed and the connection was energizing. Enchanting. They could not let go.

At last, Doc Blue showed her the book. “Was it you who gave me this gift, Miss Paige? Or is ‘vanity working on a weak mind?’” He quoted from Jane Austen, and gave her the typewritten card.

Happy Holidays.
Wish granted.

She gasped. “It’s you? You’re my gift.”

“Me?” Doc Blue hoped, but then he wondered, “But if my gift wasn’t from you…”

“…who requested the book?”

Miss Paige knew. Soon, all of Winter knew, too…

Winter’s Eve: The Fourth Gift

December 6, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

Below is an installment of Winter’s Eve–a six part holiday story.
If you have missed previous pieces:
The First Gift ~ The Second Gift ~ The Third Gift

In addition to three gifts, the citizens of Winter had found a dreadful cold. Many of us had visited Doc Blue–his kindness and his dog Charley were both restorative. My granddaughter had seen him recently, and soon it was my turn. As he examined me, the doctor confessed.

“Everyone seems sedentary. Suffering,” he sighed. “I should be fulfilled by helping, but… it’s been a difficult year.” He held up a tongue depressor, but my friend was the one depressed. “Open wide. Say ahhh…”

I did as instructed, but inside I grieved for us both over the loss of my daughter and son-in-law. The accident had touched all of us in Winter, but I knew Doc Blue felt it more than most. He had been unable to save them.

After listening to my heart, he said, “I need a winter getaway. …to just scram… but who would look after Charley?” The dog’s tail thumped happily upon hearing his name.

That night, I later heard, Doc Blue found the fourth gift at his door.

Happy Holidays.
Wish granted.

As he and his dog settled by their fire, Doc Blue unwrapped it. A book. Travels with Charley–John Steinbeck’s adventures in America with his dog. Imagine Doc Blue’s delight discovering Charley could join him.

Then Doc Blue saw the stamp on the book. Winter Public Library. Was Miss Paige the giver? Doc Blue, and all of us, soon discovered it was not the librarian. It turned out he, too, benefited from the fifth gift.

Winter’s Eve: The Third Gift

November 29, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

Below is an installment of Winter’s Eve–a six part holiday story.
If you have missed previous pieces:
The First Gift ~ The Second Gift

After the first two packages appeared, we were two weeks closer to the holidays, and Mr. Crumb was visibly stressed. Orders for sweet and spicy treats were piling up faster than usual. He jokingly called this busy season Merrythanksgivoween, but even Miss Paige, the new librarian who had moved to Winter this fall, said she had never seen a man so flustered.

“The darling man… tiresome! Out of both ideas and cinnamon,” Miss Paige told me as she paid for new pencils. My granddaughter wrapped them. She was helping me at the store, her school out early again because of another approaching blizzard.

Miss Paige thanked us and added, “I loaned him my best cookbook, but then he was off to see Doc Blue. I’ve not yet met the doctor… he’s busy… but I have the romantic notion he can help poor Mr. Crumb from crumbling altogether.”

I glanced to a bare shelf, knowing I had recently sold my last jar of cinnamon to Doc Blue. I hoped he would share it with Mr. Crumb, but when the baker came to visit me the next day, the cinnamon he was holding had not been prescribed.

“It was at my door… tied with crimson ribbon.” His hand shook with excitement as he showed me the note.

Happy Holidays.
Wish granted.

“The librarian?” Crumb pondered. “The good doctor?”

Could Doc Blue also mend a girl’s heart, I wondered, but even before the doctor found the fourth gift, I knew that wasn’t possible.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

The Fourth Gift will post next Friday. Happy Thanksgiving weekend, everyone.