My good friend and writing buddy, Julie Saffrin, and I attended the Northern Colorado Writers Conference (NCWC) this past weekend in Fort Collins. We met lots of friendly writers--mostly all from Colorado--and connected with quite a few, collecting the usual array of author business cards and postcards. The workshops were helpful and enjoyable, like "Selling your book to film and television" with Ken Sherman, or "Intimate emotions, universal themes & synchronicity" with Page Lambert. It was fun to meet Page before I attend the "Landscape and Literature" retreat that she is hosting in Wyoming this May.
Kerrie Flanagan, Director of the NCWC, did an amazing job overseeing the many aspects of a large conference, and took care of everyone's needs with a smile on her face. The keynotes were great, starting with author/screenwriter Stephen Cannell on Friday, and Colorado author Todd Mitchell on Saturday.
I had a pitch session with agent Rachelle Gardner, which was my main reason for attending this particular conference. I think both my novel "Seeds of Salton" and my new nonfiction book "Michigan & Rookie" will appeal to a crossover audience. From what I've read about Rachelle I think she might have the ideal background for these types of stories. Time will tell... :)
Of course I love traveling west for any reason--and combining Colorado and writing makes it even better. Old Town Fort Collins had lots of cool shops and restaurants and we had a gorgeous view of the Rockies--that alone was worth the trip! The conference was held at the Hilton and I must say "Hilton" is the way to go--no more Motel 6's for me! :) I loved having four feather pillows on my bed!
Meanwhile, now it's time to get back to the new episodes for "Hidden Heritage" on RFD-TV and start on my book proposal for "Michigan and Rookie...Guardians of the Night." It seems I never run out of things to write, which is a good thing!
Barbara
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
2010 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Contest - Quarterfinals!!
I, along with a thousand other writers, waited not-so-patiently yesterday for the posting of the quarterfinal entries. This is the stage in the contest where hopeful authors go down from 1,000 to 250. I won't say how many times I logged on to check the Amazon/abna website, but finally around ten o'clock central time zone, the list was posted.
My husband happened to be in my office when I scrolled the list (going alphabetical by last name), down through A, B, C...K, L, M...Ma and we both spotted it simultaneously:
Marshak, Barbara - Seeds of Salton (And both cheered simultaneously: Wha-hooh!)
It may or may not meaning anything to my career--time will tell--nonetheless it brings a good dose of encouragement as I prepare to head off to Colorado tomorrow for the Northern Colorado Writers Conference in Fort Collins.
Until the next round!
Barbara
My husband happened to be in my office when I scrolled the list (going alphabetical by last name), down through A, B, C...K, L, M...Ma and we both spotted it simultaneously:
Marshak, Barbara - Seeds of Salton (And both cheered simultaneously: Wha-hooh!)
It may or may not meaning anything to my career--time will tell--nonetheless it brings a good dose of encouragement as I prepare to head off to Colorado tomorrow for the Northern Colorado Writers Conference in Fort Collins.
Until the next round!
Barbara
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Road Trip to Branson!
As some of you may know already, Paul LaRoche and the Brule' gang are booked full-time in Branson, Missouri at the beautiful RFD-TV Theatre starting March 2010. Their extended concert run in Branson means they had to move from their home-base in Sioux Falls, South Dakota to Branson. And while it might seem a bit strange for them to leave South Dakota, Paul and crew are thankful for a full-season performance schedule in one of America's most popular tourist stops.
Moving the entire Brule' entourage to Branson--which includes 18 people by the way--also means upcoming episodes for Hidden Heritage-The TV Series will be produced from their new home-base. When Paul asked me to come to Branson last week to assist with the interview for Episode #15, I said sure. Then I realized it was "off-season" and airfare to Branson was INSANE! So I called up my sister Norma and dared her to come on a roadtrip to Branson with me while she was still 69! (Her 70th birthday is March 22nd!) Being the good sport that she is, she signed up to go...and off we went. We didn't see much of Iowa either way since it was covered in thick, soupy fog that made driving quite stressful. Even worse, we drove 640 miles straight south to southern Missouri only to endure cold, misty, windy weather--so not fair!
Upon arriving in Branson, Norma and I were happy to discover a Panera next door to our hotel. Needless to say, we started every morning there! Branson was quite an interesting town, think Vegas/Orlando/Nashville. There were tons of theatres everywhere and I must say the RFD-TV Theatre was a beautiful facility, inside and out. The photo of the Brule' gang on the big marquee outside looked impressive--and should draw in a number of tourists with that alone.
Norma and I didn't have time to do much sight-seeing, after all I was there to work. The theme of Episode #15 is one where we feature a Native American hero story. This episode features Officer Joaquin Guerrero from Saginaw, Michigan, a Mexican Indian man just happens to have another incredible life story. Officer Guerrero created Precinct 131, a program designed for young children to say "no to guns, gangs, drugs, and violence." He has worked the night shift in Saginaw for 21 years and feels it's his calling to work the dangerous night streets. After meeting Joaquin, it is easy to see that he is a man with a very giving heart. A man whose life story--God willing--will be my next book. In fact, my working title is "Michigan and Rookie...Guardians of the Night", a remarkable story of a cop and his K-9 partner Rookie, dedicated to serving their community as the eyes and ears of the night.
Norma and I didn't have time to do much sight-seeing, after all I was there to work. The theme of Episode #15 is one where we feature a Native American hero story. This episode features Officer Joaquin Guerrero from Saginaw, Michigan, a Mexican Indian man just happens to have another incredible life story. Officer Guerrero created Precinct 131, a program designed for young children to say "no to guns, gangs, drugs, and violence." He has worked the night shift in Saginaw for 21 years and feels it's his calling to work the dangerous night streets. After meeting Joaquin, it is easy to see that he is a man with a very giving heart. A man whose life story--God willing--will be my next book. In fact, my working title is "Michigan and Rookie...Guardians of the Night", a remarkable story of a cop and his K-9 partner Rookie, dedicated to serving their community as the eyes and ears of the night.
It was fun to meet both Joaquin and Rookie and assist Paul and Shane with the interview process. I do know that you won't want to miss this episode of Hidden Heritage, scheduled for June 7, 2010 on RFD-TV.
I want to give a special "thank you" to my sister Norma for going with me on the roadtrip to Branson while she was still a young 69 years of age!
Barbara
Thursday, March 4, 2010
What's Your Heritage?
I thought about my heritage a few weeks ago when I wrote a short story for a contest sponsored by the Jackpine Writers group in Park Rapids, in northern Minnesota. The story needed to have a Minnesota connection, and since my hometown of Wadena is in that area I started to brainstorm, trying to think of something to write about.
Late one night when it was well below zero and a full moon lit up our snow covered back yard, I thought about the pioneers and the difficulties they must have experienced, coming to make a home in this “new land.” My great-grandparents, Charls and Carolina Veden, on my Dad’s side, emigrated from Sweden in 1858 and bought land in Chisago County near Lindstrom, where many Swedish immigrants settled.
Notes from our family history tell us that around 1870 Charls and Carolina bought 80 acres by Horse Head Lake in Ottertail County. Carolina was a midwife so many people turned to her for help. One winter night a family who had a house across the lake lost their home to a fire. They walked across the frozen lake in their bare feet and some of them were burned so badly they left a trail of flesh across the lake. Most of the family died from gangrene…except the youngest child who’d been carried. My great-grandfather built their coffins.
Around 1877 Charls and Carolina relocated again, this time near Wadena, in Compton Township of Ottertail County. Their son, Herbert, took over the family farm from them, followed by Herbert’s son, Percy, who was my dad. The Veden family farm is now operated by my nephew, the fifth generation of Vedens.
My short story, Prairie Promises, is a fictionalized version of that horrific event on Horse Head Lake back in 1870. Writing about that time period made me curious as to why people were compelled to leave their homeland. On my last trip to the library I picked up The Emigrant series by Vilhelm Moberg, a four-book account of the Swedish emigration to Minnesota, based on the fictional Karl Oskar Nilsson and his family. It’s a real-life look at a remarkable period in history, written with stunning detail and great humor.
So far I’m on Book #2 – Unto a Good Land and enjoying every page!
Barbara
Late one night when it was well below zero and a full moon lit up our snow covered back yard, I thought about the pioneers and the difficulties they must have experienced, coming to make a home in this “new land.” My great-grandparents, Charls and Carolina Veden, on my Dad’s side, emigrated from Sweden in 1858 and bought land in Chisago County near Lindstrom, where many Swedish immigrants settled.
Notes from our family history tell us that around 1870 Charls and Carolina bought 80 acres by Horse Head Lake in Ottertail County. Carolina was a midwife so many people turned to her for help. One winter night a family who had a house across the lake lost their home to a fire. They walked across the frozen lake in their bare feet and some of them were burned so badly they left a trail of flesh across the lake. Most of the family died from gangrene…except the youngest child who’d been carried. My great-grandfather built their coffins.
Around 1877 Charls and Carolina relocated again, this time near Wadena, in Compton Township of Ottertail County. Their son, Herbert, took over the family farm from them, followed by Herbert’s son, Percy, who was my dad. The Veden family farm is now operated by my nephew, the fifth generation of Vedens.
My short story, Prairie Promises, is a fictionalized version of that horrific event on Horse Head Lake back in 1870. Writing about that time period made me curious as to why people were compelled to leave their homeland. On my last trip to the library I picked up The Emigrant series by Vilhelm Moberg, a four-book account of the Swedish emigration to Minnesota, based on the fictional Karl Oskar Nilsson and his family. It’s a real-life look at a remarkable period in history, written with stunning detail and great humor.
So far I’m on Book #2 – Unto a Good Land and enjoying every page!
Barbara
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Bloomington Writers Festival & Book Fair
Once again I am going to take part in the Bloomington Writers' Festival & Book Fair held Saturday, Februrary 27, 2010 at the beautiful Bloomington Theatre & Art Center. The 7th annual event runs from 9:30 am to 4:30 pm, and features keynote speaker Cathy Wurzer, one of Minnesota's premiere journalists and host of "Morning Edition" on Minnesota Public Radio.
Workshops, panels, and the book fair run from 10:30 am to 3:30 pm, with a variety of scheduled guest speakers, author readings, and writers' idea exchanges running throughout the day. More than 60 authors and resource people will be in attendance to discuss books and the publishing process.
It's the perfect place for people who love to read, write or talk about books to spend a winter Saturday. Admission for the book fair is FREE! Admission for keynote, workshops and panels is $10 each and preregistration is required.
Location: Bloomington Theatre & Art Center, 1800 W. Old Shakopee Road
Hours: 9:30 am - 4:30 pm
For additional information, go to http://www.bloomingtonartcenter.com/ or call 952-563-8587.
I will have signed copies of Hidden Heritage...Story of Paul LaRoche, Brule' CDs and DVDs, my compiliation books, and photo greeting cards at my book table. Hope to see you there!
Barbara
Workshops, panels, and the book fair run from 10:30 am to 3:30 pm, with a variety of scheduled guest speakers, author readings, and writers' idea exchanges running throughout the day. More than 60 authors and resource people will be in attendance to discuss books and the publishing process.
It's the perfect place for people who love to read, write or talk about books to spend a winter Saturday. Admission for the book fair is FREE! Admission for keynote, workshops and panels is $10 each and preregistration is required.
Location: Bloomington Theatre & Art Center, 1800 W. Old Shakopee Road
Hours: 9:30 am - 4:30 pm
For additional information, go to http://www.bloomingtonartcenter.com/ or call 952-563-8587.
I will have signed copies of Hidden Heritage...Story of Paul LaRoche, Brule' CDs and DVDs, my compiliation books, and photo greeting cards at my book table. Hope to see you there!
Barbara
Friday, February 5, 2010
It's the Cows!
Not long ago I wrote a 'short-short' piece for a contest sponsored by MinnPost. The article or essay had to be about Minnesota and under 800 words. I pondered a few ideas and decided it was time to disclose a secret that until now I've only shared with close friends and family: I'm deathly afraid of cows. It's true. I equate cows with the likes of grizzly bears and mountain lions. So here's my story:
Head out along any rural roadway in Minnesota and you’ll most likely pass a herd of dairy cows or beef cattle. Poised sporadically across a serene pasture, tails swishing, munching summer grasses, they stand as still as a Norman Rockwell painting. A picturesque snapshot of bovine innocence…from a distance.
Be warned—it’s a façade. Those frightening four-leggeds are out to get me.
I know this because as soon as I get close enough, their big brown eyes stare into mine and a sinister sensation pulsates through me. The vibrations ripple through my heart like a pounding drum: I’m coming right for you!
I don’t have telepathic experiences with any other mammals in the animal kingdom, just cows. Well, and buffalo. I think it all started when I was sixteen and my older brother corralled me into helping him move cattle one fall. My parents were retired dairy farmers and had handed over the farm to my oldest brother. I was the “surprise” in the family…Baby Number Seven born when my mom was 49 and my dad 51. Even though we spent many weekends helping out on the farm, I was a town kid at heart and frightened of those big brown Herefords. Every time I neared the pasture, the entire herd charged toward the fence in a threatening posture, their brown eyes glaring right through me.
During the summer months the beef cattle grazed peacefully in the meadow, 240 acres that stretched along a lazy creek bed about a mile from the homestead. Before the snows hit it was crucial to bring the herd home in order to feed them through the harsh winter months. The cattle basically knew the routine, barnyard to meadow and back—or so my brother insisted—making it a simple task of directing them at certain turn points between.
It was a cool, gray November day when I found myself positioned next to the pickup at the exact spot the cattle needed to make a ninety-degree turn and cut through the field. “Just wave your arms and holler and they’ll head right for home,” my brother instructed, leaving me alone while he went to open the gate.
As the seconds ticked by I regretted my decision to help and longed for the safety of the paved streets in town instead of risking my life on a dead-end gravel road. It would be a dead-end all right, my own.
There was a slight rise in the road so my first and only clue in knowing the cows were heading in my direction was the brown cloud of dust and dirt that rose up, followed by the unmistakable sound of stampeding hooves. The thunderous roar of the approaching herd didn’t come close to the deafening sound of fear pounding in my chest. The tops of their heads appeared first as they came into view. It was my worst nightmare come true: a hundred head of Herefords descending on me at lightning speed. With every single set of brown eyes locked on my small frame, I did what every intelligent town kid would do and dove head first into the cab of the pick-up.
As best I can recall the nightmares started soon after. In some dreams two or three Holsteins are hiding around the corner of the house, waiting for me to come outside so they can attack. In another dream a single Hereford is in the house, hiding on the other side of the refrigerator, waiting for the right moment to charge. Even though I’ve lived in the suburbs for over twenty years, no place is safe.
It happened again this summer. My husband and I were riding his Harley through the scenic Wind Cave National Park in the Black Hills. I spotted the signs alerting visitors to watch for free-roaming bison in the park. Sure enough we came upon a large herd of buffalo that spread across the open range on both sides of the road. One big bull about twenty feet away lifted his head and stared straight at me. With his eyes locked on mine, his message came through loud and clear: I’m coming for you!
“Don’t stop!” I screamed, pounding my husband on the back.
Annoyed, he shouted back, “I’m only slowing down so I don’t hit one of them!”
Some people have gone so far as to imply that my fears are irrational, but I beg to disagree. This crippling fear that envelops me time after time is every bit real. I’ve concluded I must not be alone. After all, there are huge warning signs posted all over Minnesota roadways from some guy named Kemps: It’s the cows!
Don’t I know it.
NOTE: I should explain for any non-Minnesotans...Kemps is a popular brand of dairy products in the Minneapolis/St.Paul area. They advertise a wide variety of very clever ice cream flavors with loveable cows dressed to match each flavor, posted on eye-catching billboards along with their slogan: It's the cows! My husband has worked in the grocery business for over 30 years, so I was pleased that I could actually tie in my fear of cows with products from his supermarket shelves! :)
I sent this story to my penpal Amish sisters in northern Minnesota, knowing they'd get a kick out of it. Sure enough, every letter I get from them now has stickers of cows on the envelope and stationery. Cute, girls!
So that's my story...and I'm sticking to it!
Barbara
Head out along any rural roadway in Minnesota and you’ll most likely pass a herd of dairy cows or beef cattle. Poised sporadically across a serene pasture, tails swishing, munching summer grasses, they stand as still as a Norman Rockwell painting. A picturesque snapshot of bovine innocence…from a distance.
Be warned—it’s a façade. Those frightening four-leggeds are out to get me.
I know this because as soon as I get close enough, their big brown eyes stare into mine and a sinister sensation pulsates through me. The vibrations ripple through my heart like a pounding drum: I’m coming right for you!
I don’t have telepathic experiences with any other mammals in the animal kingdom, just cows. Well, and buffalo. I think it all started when I was sixteen and my older brother corralled me into helping him move cattle one fall. My parents were retired dairy farmers and had handed over the farm to my oldest brother. I was the “surprise” in the family…Baby Number Seven born when my mom was 49 and my dad 51. Even though we spent many weekends helping out on the farm, I was a town kid at heart and frightened of those big brown Herefords. Every time I neared the pasture, the entire herd charged toward the fence in a threatening posture, their brown eyes glaring right through me.
During the summer months the beef cattle grazed peacefully in the meadow, 240 acres that stretched along a lazy creek bed about a mile from the homestead. Before the snows hit it was crucial to bring the herd home in order to feed them through the harsh winter months. The cattle basically knew the routine, barnyard to meadow and back—or so my brother insisted—making it a simple task of directing them at certain turn points between.
It was a cool, gray November day when I found myself positioned next to the pickup at the exact spot the cattle needed to make a ninety-degree turn and cut through the field. “Just wave your arms and holler and they’ll head right for home,” my brother instructed, leaving me alone while he went to open the gate.
As the seconds ticked by I regretted my decision to help and longed for the safety of the paved streets in town instead of risking my life on a dead-end gravel road. It would be a dead-end all right, my own.
There was a slight rise in the road so my first and only clue in knowing the cows were heading in my direction was the brown cloud of dust and dirt that rose up, followed by the unmistakable sound of stampeding hooves. The thunderous roar of the approaching herd didn’t come close to the deafening sound of fear pounding in my chest. The tops of their heads appeared first as they came into view. It was my worst nightmare come true: a hundred head of Herefords descending on me at lightning speed. With every single set of brown eyes locked on my small frame, I did what every intelligent town kid would do and dove head first into the cab of the pick-up.
As best I can recall the nightmares started soon after. In some dreams two or three Holsteins are hiding around the corner of the house, waiting for me to come outside so they can attack. In another dream a single Hereford is in the house, hiding on the other side of the refrigerator, waiting for the right moment to charge. Even though I’ve lived in the suburbs for over twenty years, no place is safe.
It happened again this summer. My husband and I were riding his Harley through the scenic Wind Cave National Park in the Black Hills. I spotted the signs alerting visitors to watch for free-roaming bison in the park. Sure enough we came upon a large herd of buffalo that spread across the open range on both sides of the road. One big bull about twenty feet away lifted his head and stared straight at me. With his eyes locked on mine, his message came through loud and clear: I’m coming for you!
“Don’t stop!” I screamed, pounding my husband on the back.
Annoyed, he shouted back, “I’m only slowing down so I don’t hit one of them!”
Some people have gone so far as to imply that my fears are irrational, but I beg to disagree. This crippling fear that envelops me time after time is every bit real. I’ve concluded I must not be alone. After all, there are huge warning signs posted all over Minnesota roadways from some guy named Kemps: It’s the cows!
Don’t I know it.
NOTE: I should explain for any non-Minnesotans...Kemps is a popular brand of dairy products in the Minneapolis/St.Paul area. They advertise a wide variety of very clever ice cream flavors with loveable cows dressed to match each flavor, posted on eye-catching billboards along with their slogan: It's the cows! My husband has worked in the grocery business for over 30 years, so I was pleased that I could actually tie in my fear of cows with products from his supermarket shelves! :)
I sent this story to my penpal Amish sisters in northern Minnesota, knowing they'd get a kick out of it. Sure enough, every letter I get from them now has stickers of cows on the envelope and stationery. Cute, girls!
So that's my story...and I'm sticking to it!
Barbara
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Good Things To Come
I'm excited! Super excited, even. Do you want to know why? I have this sense of good things to come in 2010, more specifically in the first half of 2010...and here's why:
A) I entered Seeds of Salton in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Contest on the advice of my editor, Susanne Lakin, who entered one of her books last year. She made it to the top 100 (which is quite an accomplishment!), and had tons of fun connecting with other writers as the contest progressed. The contest is decided through four stages of elimination with the winner being announced June 10th.
B) I just registered for the Northern Colorado Writers Conference in Fort Collins, Colorado, March 26 & 27, 2010. They have a great line-up of speakers, authors, agents, editors--the works, packed into a two-day conference. I'm really looking forward to attending a new conference, after having attended the Southern California Writers Conference (San Diego) in 2007 and 2008. Last year I was unable to make it to a conference and really missed it engaging with new writing friends. My plan is to drive, rather than fly, so I'll be praying for mild, sunny weather come March!
C) I also signed up for the (amazing!) Landscape and Literature writing retreat hosted by author Page Lambert at the Vee Bar Guest Ranch near Laramie, Wyoming. Actually a thought just occurred to me...maybe when I leave the NCWC conference in March, I should drive right to Laramie and park my car at the entrance to the Vee Bar and wait until May 29th when it starts! So yes, you can tell I am excited about spending five days in a creek-side mountain cabin, journaling, riding horse, talking writing, and finding that "voice" inside.
All of that only takes me to June. Who knows what could happen the rest of the year! :)
Barbara
A) I entered Seeds of Salton in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Contest on the advice of my editor, Susanne Lakin, who entered one of her books last year. She made it to the top 100 (which is quite an accomplishment!), and had tons of fun connecting with other writers as the contest progressed. The contest is decided through four stages of elimination with the winner being announced June 10th.
B) I just registered for the Northern Colorado Writers Conference in Fort Collins, Colorado, March 26 & 27, 2010. They have a great line-up of speakers, authors, agents, editors--the works, packed into a two-day conference. I'm really looking forward to attending a new conference, after having attended the Southern California Writers Conference (San Diego) in 2007 and 2008. Last year I was unable to make it to a conference and really missed it engaging with new writing friends. My plan is to drive, rather than fly, so I'll be praying for mild, sunny weather come March!
C) I also signed up for the (amazing!) Landscape and Literature writing retreat hosted by author Page Lambert at the Vee Bar Guest Ranch near Laramie, Wyoming. Actually a thought just occurred to me...maybe when I leave the NCWC conference in March, I should drive right to Laramie and park my car at the entrance to the Vee Bar and wait until May 29th when it starts! So yes, you can tell I am excited about spending five days in a creek-side mountain cabin, journaling, riding horse, talking writing, and finding that "voice" inside.
All of that only takes me to June. Who knows what could happen the rest of the year! :)
Barbara
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