Creating Diverse Characters - Ryder Islington

Creating Diverse Characters

I love, and hate, my characters. Getting to know them was what really gelled the plot. See, they mostly all know each other, or used to know each other, or are related to each other even if they don’t know it. They all have secrets. And they all have problems. None are perfectly good or perfectly bad.

From the beginning, I knew five of the characters. I knew the beginning and end of the story. By working on character development, the rest came together. For me, there was natural conflict everywhere I looked. Since giving away the conflicts would probably be a spoiler, I’ll leave that part out, but believe me, this bunch of Southerners definitely have problems.

SSA Trey Fontaine is a thirty-two year old FBI agent who is recovering from being shot in the butt during a drug raid a few weeks before the story begins. His relationships with his mom, dad, godfather, previous heartthrob, and town villain keeps his head whirling. Being addicted to pain medication doesn’t help any.

His godfather, Russell Coleman, is the only Black detective, in the south Louisiana town. He hates Alton Boudreaux, the rich man in town to did an evil thing a few years back. And Coleman’s new partner, Gemini Taylor, is the only female detective willing to work the ugly cases. She has an ulterior motive for working so hard to be hired by this department, in this parish. And with the man she wants to influence. She’s on a mission.

Jaime Boudreaux, Alton’s son, is a service officer at the same department as Coleman and Taylor. He hates Blacks. He hates women in power. He wants to be in control and aspires to greatness—as soon as he’s old enough to become a gun-toting deputy. He’s entitled, arrogant, mean. He only had one brief moment of what he calls love, and the woman involved is dead. He is a suspect in a case very close to Coleman.

Then there are the three children, Drew, a fifteen year old girl, Rocky, a twelve year old boy, and Wile, a six year old boy. Three rattlesnakes who tag team anyone they see as a threat to women or children. Don’t underestimate them. And don’t threaten them. They’re young, but smart and determined. They know almost all the other characters, and they don’t care about titles like deputy, investigator, or rich land owner. One is very talkative, one is almost always silent, and one is coming of age, but still committed to the others. I love sick little Wile. He’s sharp. He’s Huck Finn with attitude. I can’t share Rocky’s story here. It’s too ugly. And Drew, bless her heart, loves children—of course she sees herself as an adult, though only three years older than Rocky.

Ultimate Justice, A Trey Fontaine Mystery is receiving rave reviews from readers. http://www.ll-publications.com/ultimatejustice.html

BLURB:

The small town of Raven Bayou, Louisiana explodes as old money meets racial tension, and tortured children turn the table on abusive men. FBI Special Agent Trey Fontaine returns home to find the town turned upside down with mutilated bodies. Working with local homicide detectives, Trey is determined to get to the truth. A believer in empirical evidence, Trey ignores his instincts until he stares into the face of the impossible, and has to choose between what he wants to believe and the ugly truth.

BIO:

A graduate of the University of California and former officer for a large sheriff’s department, RYDER ISLINGTON is now retired and doing what she loves: reading, writing, and gardening. She lives in Louisiana with her family, including a very large English Chocolate Lab, a very small Chinese pug, and a houseful of demanding cats. 

She can be contacted at RyderIslington@yahoo.com or visit her blog at Ryder Islington 

BUY CANADIAN - BE CANADIAN

Christmas 2011 -- Birth of a New Tradition

As the holidays approach, the giant Asian factories are kicking into high gear to provide Canadians with monstrous piles of cheaply produced goods -- merchandise that has been produced at the expense of Canadian labor. This year will be different. This year Canadians will give the gift of genuine concern for other Canadians. There is no longer an excuse that, at gift giving time, nothing can be found that is produced by Canadians hands. Yes there is!

It's time to think outside the box, people. Who says a gift needs to fit in a shirt box, wrapped in Chinese produced wrapping paper?

Everyone -- yes EVERYONE gets their hair cut. How about gift certificates from your local Canadian hair salon or barber?

Gym membership? It's appropriate for all ages who are thinking about some health improvement.

Who wouldn't appreciate getting their car detailed? Small, Canadian owned detail shops and car washes would love to sell you a gift certificate or a book of gift certificates.

Are you one of those extravagant givers who think nothing of plonking down the Benjamines on a Chinese made flat-screen? Perhaps that grateful gift receiver would like his driveway sealed, or lawn mowed for the summer, or driveway plowed all winter, or games at the local golf course.

There are a bazillion owner-run restaurants -- all offering gift certificates. And, if your intended isn't the fancy eatery sort, what about a half dozen breakfasts at the local breakfast joint. Remember, folks this isn't about big National chains -- this is about supporting your home town Canadian with their financial lives on the line to keep their doors open.

How many people couldn't use an oil change for their car, truck or motorcycle, done at a shop run by the Canadian working guy?

Thinking about a heartfelt gift for mom? Mom would LOVE the services of a local cleaning lady for a day.

My computer could use a tune-up, and I KNOW I can find some young guy who is struggling to get his repair business up and running.

OK, you were looking for something more personal. Local crafts people spin their own wool and knit them into scarves. They make jewelry, and pottery and beautiful wooden boxes.

Plan your holiday outings at local, owner operated restaurants and leave your server a nice tip. And, how about going out to see a play or ballet at your hometown theatre.

Musicians need love too, so find a venue showcasing local bands.

Honestly, people, do you REALLY need to buy another ten thousand Chinese lights for the house? When you buy a five dollar string of lights, about fifty cents stays in the community. If you have those kinds of bucks to burn, leave the mailman, trash guy or babysitter a nice BIG tip.

You see, Christmas is no longer about draining Canadian pockets so that Chinacan build another glittering city. Christmas is now about caring about us, encouraging Canadian small businesses to keep plugging away to follow their dreams. And, when we care about other Canadians, we care about our communities, and the benefits come back to us in ways we couldn't imagine. THIS is the new Canadian  Christmas tradition.

Forward this to everyone on your mailing list -- post it to discussion groups -- throw up a post on Craigslist in the Rants and Raves section in your city -- send it to the editor of your local paper and radio stations, and TV news departments. This is a revolution of caring about each other, and isn't that what Christmas is about?


BUY CANADIAN - BE  CANADIAN - The job you save might be your own

Thriller Author Lisa Black

Federal Reserve Bank

Serendipity figures into the writing life in sometimes spooky ways. Especially with my first Theresa MacLean book Takeover (the fourth was released September 27). Just as I’d be mulling over some aspect of my plot, someone or something would come along and prod me into the next few chapters.

In the book, the Federal Reserve bank in Cleveland is taken over by armed robbers and forensic scientist Theresa goes against the flashy negotiator by giving the robbers something they want in order to free her wounded and dying fiancé. I am embarrassed to report that it grew out of a recurring daydream about gorgeous Rory Cochrane on CSI Miami. The scene never occurred on CSI Miami, but somehow my brain synapsed the cute guy and the brilliant sunlit street and the desperate situation together and worked at it until I had it perfect, not that thoughts involving Rory Cochrane were difficult to return to. Just a daydream. (Okay, fantasy, I admit it, are you happy now?)

From there, I happened to go to the Sleuthfest convention in Fort Lauderdale and happened to attend the Sisters In Crime dinner and happened to sit next to an older man and his wife, people unknown to me. In the course of making polite conversation (my mother did teach me a few manners, despite what others may tell you) it turned out the man had been a New York police officer for years, many of them on the hostage rescue squad, and he had written an article on negotiation that was still used to teach classes at the FBI Academy. Through him I tracked down a copy of it, which I used and listed in my bibliography in the book.

PT Library

Then, I was sitting on the couch watching TV with my husband (a scene which, unfortunately for our waistlines, occurs all too frequently in my house) when a commercial for the 2006 Harrison Ford movie Firewall aired. I sat up and said aloud, “I won’t make my robbery at an ordinary bank. I’ll make it at the Federal Reserve bank.” Having walked past the Fed in downtown Cleveland many times on my way to the library, I knew it was a large and distinct location. What I didn’t know was that there are only 12 in the country and that a Fed is completely different from your corner savings and loan, so that no one in their right mind would rob a Federal Reserve. This, however, eventually worked in my favor, adding another layer of things-are-not-what-they-seem to the story.

Of course the movie Firewall has absolutely nothing to do with the Federal Reserve. Perhaps the wiring in my brain has a few shorts.

These facts and ideas and half-baked scenes were floating around in my head when we went over our friends’ house for a party one evening. We live in Cape Coral, Florida, so that while my husband and I are in our 40s, most of our friends are retired. I like partying with retirees. They cook well, don’t cancel because they couldn’t find a babysitter, never show up ‘fashionably late’ and have lived long enough to have an endless supply of interesting stories. One such man had been an elevator repairman, one of those guys allowed into even high-security buildings because, of course, no one wants to take the stairs. He could tell me quite a bit about the layout of the Cleveland Fed. Another person at this same party had worked in a bank for all of her professional life and as an examiner for the latter portion of it. She had been to the Fed many times in the course of her work. I had been struggling to come up with a significant title and asked for any inside terminology regarding banks, or robberies, or the Fed. At first she said no, thought about it, got another drink and said, “Well, when we had the kind of robbery where the guy waited in the parking lot for the first employee to show up in the morning, usually the manager, and walked them in at gunpoint to open the safe, we would refer to that as a Morning Glory. When there was a single robber, he was a Lone Gunman, and when there were two or more, we called that a Takeover.”

You never know where or when this kind of help will fall into your lap. Talk to the people you meet, and ask questions. Lots of questions. Even if you don’t even know yet what it is you want to know, ask, talk, and most of all, listen.

Oh, and go to parties.

Lots of parties.

Web Site

BIO:

Lisa Black’s fourth book Defensive Wounds was released by Harper Collins on September 27. Forensic scientist Theresa MacLean battles a serial killer operating at an attorney’s convention. Lisa is a full time latent print examiner and CSI for a police department in Florida.  

Wait for it...

As the north east of much of North America starts to assess the damage and begin clean-up you will hear a voice. A voice full of fire and fury. And this voice will be telling you that Hurricane Irene was God\s punishment for America supporting, and here you get to take your pick:

1. gay and lesbian rights
2. feminists
3. left wing socialists
4. Fidel Castro
4. muslims
5. jews
6. climatologists AND socialists who 'buy' into Global Warming
7. Obama -- why not? They're blaming everything else on him.

Do you really think I'm going to believe that some omnipotent god creature who knows all and sees all, needs to kill a random selection of people, including the faithful -- tell me, do they die saying "Yes! I know this is God's justice."

I'll be honest, I don't understand people who think there is a thing that caress about every little action or thought of a little biped and when they do something that this thing disapproves of, he'll send a hurricane, or maybe a volcano, a tornado, earthquakes and tsunamis to not only kill those people, but a lot of other people as well as thousands of acres of forest or beaches that never did anything to anyone. The animals deaths can be severe too. Does a deer need to die because someone loved someone of the same sex?

Honestly? Do you?

Before even opening her mouth, opera singer, Jenny Lind was already today’s equivalent of a rock star or world-renowned celebrity. If we could all have P. T. Barnum’s marketing savvy pushing our names. She arrived to much fanfare to New York Harbor on September 1st, 1850. Forty thousand people to be exact, and she hadn’t even sung a note. The Swedish Nightingale signed a contract with Barnum and his company to the tune of $187,500 for 150 shows.

Before she was thirty, Lind took the capitols of Europe by storm. I read that Queen Victoria herself threw flowers at her feet. Lind was known for her pure vocal style and humility. Barnum sold her to the American public as a simple, humble woman who dedicated much of her life and earnings to charitable causes. She was a soprano with a range from B to middle C to high G.

Her nationwide tour began in New York City on September 11th, 1850 at the Castle Gardens. The five thousand attendees obtained their tickets through an auction, paying as much as $250 per ticket, which then wasn’t cheap.

During her performance, Lind sang her interpretation of “Casta Diva”, which you can hear:

Maria Calla’s interpretation here.

I wanted to discover what Jenny Lind sang because I wanted to somehow tie it in with what my heroine was feeling at the time. I was lucky in that the music worked perfectly with her emotions.

Here’s a brief excerpt from my novella, His Fifth Avenue Thief. Aaron and Cathlene are attending their first event publically as husband and wife after enduring a separation that tested their inner strength and emotions.

A hush fell over the crowd as the theater darkened. A cacophony of sound rose up from the pit below before falling silent. The curtain parted and Jenny Lind stepped out on stage.

Quiet and restrained, the orchestra began to play. The soprano joined in, her note clear and crisp, floating to all corners of the theater.

Cathlene sat enraptured by her voice. It mesmerized her, transporting her to a place she’d never been. She floated free and happy on this cloud of joy. She was here with Aaron, and there was nothing else which mattered. The performance drowned out the horror of Standish’s crime against her, taking her from the hell she’d been living in and bringing her out into the light.

“I’ve never heard anything sound so beautiful,” Aaron whispered. “Only thing better than hearing her sing of love is hearing you confess yours for me.”

She couldn’t answer. She couldn’t break this fragile spell, this link the music created between them, seeming to dissolve the barriers that separated their lives and hearts.

The beauty of the music, every note that filled the air ringing with emotion, brought tears to her eyes. From what Italian she understood, the Nightingale sang of love found but lost. Every phrase seemed to be torn from her soul, the pain of the heartbroken lover in the story burrowed its way into Cathlene’s own soul.
She was just like this overwrought lover. Both yearning for days long past, time that couldn’t be recaptured. Both wanting their love the way they used to be, but deep down, both knowing it was lost to them forever.

Their sorrow was almost palpable to her, for Cathlene felt her own pain as she thought of being parted from Aaron again. She’d once more fallen in love with the man she’d once known. Trouble was, he wasn’t the same; then again, neither was she. Her lip quivered. He didn’t feel as strongly for her as she did him. Drudging up past memories couldn’t save them.

Elizabeth sent her a concerned glance. She leaned over and whispered something, but Cathlene couldn’t hear for all the emotions that swamped through her. How she wished she had someone to confide in. Sitting amongst these strangers – even Aaron was still a stranger to her in many ways. He fit well into this world, whereas she was completely on her own and alone.

I learned all this, and only included very little of it in my novella, His Fifth Avenue Thief. While writing my first Historical, I learned that although I’d like to include everything along with the kitchen sink where fun facts are concerned, you have to weed out what won’t move the story, or the plot forward. It wasn’t easy picking and choosing what to include, but I had so much fun doing the research.

If you’re an author, while in the process of writing a book, have you ever felt torn what to include? Did you ever wish you would’ve used something other than what you did? If you’re a reader, have you ever stopped reading because the author simply included too much information? Or not enough to keep you hooked?

I’d like to thank P.A. Brown for having me here today. I’ve got to work at the evil day job, but I’ll pop in and say hello as soon as I’m able. I’m giving away a $10 Amazon gift card to one lucky, random commenter. You’ll have until Midnight, Friday EST to leave a comment for a chance to win.

My next stop on my blog tour is for my

Cyber launch party at Author Island

I’m pretty sure I’ll be giving away a prize. [wink]

Bio:

Abbey MacInnis is a published author of Contemporary Western romance. Along with Contemporary, she writes Historical, Paranormal and erotic romance. Whether she’s being swept off her feet by a Medieval knight, regency rake, or cowboy or cop, her heroes are always strong men who’ll love their women unconditionally.

On most days, Abbey can be found at her computer, penning her latest tale. A tale where love, respect, and passion combine to create a satisfying and happy ending. She invites you to step in to the pages of her romances, to leave your worries behind and get swept up in her world.

His Fifth Avenue Thief blurb:

Two years prior, Irishman Aaron O’Connel took his life from rags to riches. Chance and wits have kept him alive in 1850’S New York City. But no amount of money or success can bring his love Cathlene back from the dead. When a thief sneaks her way into his mansion, the last woman he expects to find absconding with his belongings is his long lost wife.

Abandoned on New York’s shores, a widowed, penniless, and ruined Cathlene O'Connel was left to fend for herself in an unfamiliar world. Fear and circumstance drove her to a life of thieving in order to survive, but her heart risks the biggest danger of all when Aaron hands her a scandalous proposition: A son in exchange for her freedom.
Now that he has her back, Aaron doesn't intend to let Cathlene slip between his fingers. He'll do whatever it takes to regain her trust and love. But when an enemy from Cathlene's past resurfaces, Aaron not only faces battling for Cathlene's heart, but also her life.

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Review A Dozen Deadly Rose

Review A Dozen Deadly Roses by Kathy Bennett

Web Site
Blog

This novel is Ms Bennett's first published. And it's a good beginning. A Dozen Deadly Roses is a romantic suspense. LAPD officer Jade Donovan is a field training officer. But when she finds out who the ‘rookie' riding with her will be, she knows she's in trouble. Mac Stryker was her training officer. He was also a drunk who nearly got them both killed. A mistake lands Jade in Mac's bed. She is left pregnant and Mac leaves the force, never knowing he had a son.

Now he's back and Jade just knows he's going to be trouble. She is torn between telling him about his son and maybe having to face his claims as a father. Stryker might be sober, but can he stay that way? Jade knows first hand how easy and often reformed drunks can fall back into the bottle.

As if that isn't enough, someone is stalking her. It starts with a gold box being delivered, filled with a dozen dead roses. The next day the same shows up on her doorstep, this time with eleven dead roses. It quickly becomes clear the threat is bad. Jade doesn't want her division to know what's going on. She'll tackle it herself. Her determination starts a train of events that will see her facing a killer and maybe losing everything--her life, her son's and Stryker's love.

I really enjoyed this book. I'm glad to hear the author plans more. Her characters are well developed and likable--or unlikeable as the case may be--and I know I was rooting for Jade and Stryker. If you like cops, suspense and romance, then this is the book for you. You won't be disappointed.

Great Icons... and then there's Los Angeles

What icon comes to mind when you hear the name New York City? For me it's the Statue of Liberty. Others might think of the Empire State Building. What about Paris? The Eiffel Tower. London? Buckingham Palace. San Francisco? The Golden Gate Bridge. Egypt? The pyramids. The Sydney Opera House. The Great Wall of China, Mount Rushmore, the Taj Mahal...

All great monuments of their time that stand for ingenuity, craftsmanship and the indomitable spirit of mankind and our artistic skills.

Now think Los Angeles. I would hazard a guess that what pops to mind is Hollywood and the Hollywood sign or Graumann's Chinese Theater. Vast monuments? Skillfully designed edifices that strikes awe into people when they first see it?

No, a nearly century old advertising gimmick to sell lots in a city that was promoting growth. Harry Chandler, publisher of the Los Angeles Times, along with other wealthy Californians, was also a land speculator. He promoted the growth of Los Angeles, the Valley and of course, Hollywood. The sign meant to help him and the other investors to get richer went up in 1923 at the cost of $23,000. The LAND part of the sign was removed in 1949. It was fixed and made more permanent in 1978. In 2005 the metal sign was stripped and repainted white.

I guess in terms of monuments, it beats a giant donut.

This is part of why I love L.A. It's not like anyplace else. Where else would pocket dogs be created. Where pet rocks actually became a craze. (I had a pet rock, but I didn't buy him in some store, I caught him myself, up in the hills and I had to break him all by myself) Where people throng from all over the world to see the hand prints or foot prints of men and (and the odd animal) they only know through the screen. Where even the cops are good looking. Where some east coast exiles came with a few black and white, grainy moving pictures and created a multi-billion dollar enterprise that has shaped beliefs and societies.