Michigan News Agency supports local authors with Creative Endeavor Project
By Emma Palova
Kalamazoo, MI -I had the pleasure of meeting Dean Margaret Hauck, owner of Michigan News Agency (MNA) in downtown Kalamazoo on Saturday. The old-time newsstand with hundreds of newspapers, magazines, paperbacks, comics, souvenirs, candy and tobacco has been around since 1947.
The newsstand is emerging as a “literary hot spot.”
Most
recently Hauck started the Creative Endeavor Project to support local authors.
“We
will sell your books as a pass through and return all of the money to you,
authors,” Hauck says. “The News hopes this will encourage our writing
communities to strive to do your work.”
Hauck
turned to me and said:
“You’ve
done your work.”
I found my book “Shifting Sands: Short Stories” in the Creative Endeavor Project section up front by the window. I will soon have the second book for MNA and others: “Shifting Sands: Secrets.” (c) 2019 Emma Palova.
Book cover for “Secrets” aka the Face of Gossip.
There
are 150 different titles included in the Creative Endeavor Project.
I found my dad Vaclav Konecny’s contributor profile for the Crux Mathematicorum math magazine of the Canadian Mathematical Society on the Internet yesterday.
I am including it in one of the chapters of the Greenwich Meridian: Where East meets West memoir. The title of the chapter is: Contributor Vaclav Konecny.
Dad still contributes to the magazine, either by proposing math & geometry problems or by solving them. He received an honorable mention as one of the six problemists of 1996, who had participated in one-third of the solutions for the year.
My Escape from Czechoslovakia
Another document of great value is his letter: “My Escape from Czechoslovakia” dated Nov. 18, 1976 to the Department of State in Washington D.C.
As a true mathematician, dad, in great detail, describes his journey through various border crossings between four different countries. He even describes his alternative plan. Here is an excerpt:
I made two plans:
To get from Eastern block through some check point
To go to Bulgaria-Micurin- and swim to Turkey. I exercised a lot for this purpose and I was well prepared.
But plan one worked out okay.
Law-abiding citizen Vaclav
What fascinates me the most about his escape story is that he used any means necessary to get to his target; that is a Western country that would give him visa to re-enter USA. My father is a law-abiding citizen who never breaks any rules. And he definitely never breaks his own tough rules, forged by the years spent at the Archbishop Seminary in Kromeriz.
However, in his escape journey, he had to resort to lying and deception. Dad even came very close to breaking traffic rules in Yugoslavia.
“I went as fast as the traffic rules allowed to Belgrade. I was stopped by police there, but they let me go even if it were just in the opposite direction to Sophia. I reported to Mrs. Julia Cardozo-Neitzke, U.S. Consul on July 27, 1976. No embassy wanted to issue me visa, but after enormous effort of the U.S. Embassy I got German visa.”
His Contributor Profile closes with the following statement:
“Vaclav’s sincerest hope is for world peace.”
Thanks dad for so much inspiration.
Note: Dad Vaclav and mom Ella currently winterize in Venice, FL. I will be joining them for my annual writer’s retreat in February.
Copyright (c) 2018. Emma Blogs, LLC. All rights reserved.
Daily insights from #nanowrimo with story excerpts
By Emma Palova
EW Emma’s Writings
Lowell, MI – What does NaNoWriMo mean to me?
I can only answer this question now that I have completed the 50K creative project and claimed the Winner 2018 cetificate.
NaNoWriMo is like a powerful fuel that you need to keep you going. You also have to keep on refueling as often as possible. It’s a gauge that efficiently measures your progress as you go.
Secondly, I have realized that there is no such a thing as a writer’s block; only slumps, slowdowns and funks around the Thanksgiving holiday and on Sundays.
Is creative activity as mysterious as we all think? Yes. You don’t know at the end of the day, what you’re going to come up with.
Is it scary? It can be, if you don’t know what your character is going to do next.
The creative project required a lot of discipline without credits or end of the year bonuses. But, also you were your own boss in determining when and how you were going to accomplish the 50K challenge.
I was amused by some of the questions on social media like: “What is your favorite writing drink?”
Mine is definitely tea, because I get a headache from drinking a lot of coffee.
Will I do it again in 2019? Most likely yes.
Would I recommend it? It depends on your writing goals. Fifty-thousand words is a nice chunk to start with.
Is it doable with kids and a full-time job? It depends on your partner on how many house chores will he or she take on.
Is writing still the most lonesome activity in the world that in the end depends on the the public’s liking or disliking? Yes.
WHAT NOW?
At the end, I committed to revision and editing, as well as writing more short stories to include in the new book “Shifting Sands: Secrets.” (c) 2019 Emma Palova.
The NaNoWriMo certificate defines a winner as:
A literal literary hero. A disciplined wordsmith.
A squirrel-suit flyer who just earned their wings…………
My sincere thanks to the staff, organizers and pep talk authors of the NaNoWriMo creative project for support and encouragement.
I will be using Pacemaker.press on http://www.pacemaker.press to further measure my progress into the publishing of the new anthology of short stories.
Excerpts from “White Nights” (c) 2018 Emma Palova
It was the gossip of the village that Joe beat his wife. He was a fourth-generation farmer on the largest farming plat in the village.
In front of the public eye, he acted as a proper man. Joe did everything that was expected of the largest landowner to do. He sat on the township board, on the school and the church boards. In spite of the gossip, he was a respected man with other great qualities than self-control.
Unlike Father Sam, he had no choice of what he wanted do. He inherited the land, so he had to farm it. When farming got tough with the dumping of the cheap apple juice from China in the late 1990s, his two brothers decided to get out of working with dirt. They went to work forthe largest milling company out by Shimnicon Corners. At that time, Joe too had to seek his soul, after beating one of them near death.
“You will never cross the threshold of my house,” he yelled that winter when they fought over the buyout money. “Where do you think I am going to get two million bucks?
They left anyways, and Joe owed them for the rest of his life. Joe sold off land fordevelopment and paid off some of the money, while making enemies with other farmers.
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Lowell, MI – This morning I finished “Oceans Away” stort story and I started “Fallasburg Code.” I logged in with 47,568 words in the 50K word marathon. I would like to finish by Wednesday or Thursday depending on how the last two stories go.
This was my first time participating in the National Novel Writing Month. Many people have already completed the creative project. My major takeaways are:
Finding my optimum daily writing quota of six pages or 1,500 words. The hardest part is always the start-up of new stories, on day two usually the plot unravels, and the wrap up is on day three.
I will have a total of 14 stories in the new book “Secrets” (c) 2019 Emma Palova. There were a lot of suprises for me in this one as well. In some cases, I changed titles to better fit the story. The second book is definitely not any easier than the first one.
Is it different and how?
I added some historical fiction in stories “Silk Nora” and “Fallasburg Code.”
Do I have a favorite short story? People asked me this question about the first book “Shifting Sands: Short Stories.” In this collection it is definitely “Silk Nora” which is set in my favorite time period of the 1920s.
In this sequel, I don’t dedicate as much to immigration as in the first one. Some stories like “Secrets in Ink” still draw on my newspaper writing experience.
I would like to thank the National Novel Writing Month staff for the opportunity and for the encouragement.
Even though she was suspicious at first, Norma went for the app and diligently filled out all the fields about herself.
Paul was good looking as she requested, blonde and tall; while she tallied up to his expectations as well, brunette and medium height and weight. Their first rendezvous was in Budapest, Hungary on a boat.
Norma insisted on neutral grounds such as Europe. It was Paul who picked the capital of Hungary for their first meeting. The app set their date on a boat “Princess” floating on the Danube to explore the river towns.
The date was expensive and exotic, that’s what they both wanted for their first time together. They had separate cabins on the boat. The first night, the boat was just anchoring in Budapest and they took a taxi into the city.
Paul proudly started first telling Norma all about himself. He was a doctor of Slavic origin, who wanted to get away from the nationalistic France. Norma wasn’t ashamed of her new job of the Warhol Museum executive director, either. She worked hard to get the job studying online for her master’s degree.
Budapest at night was like a star waiting to shine on the night sky. They sat long into the night on the deck bar on the boat eating shrimp and drinking red Hungarian wine.
“Will you come and see me in Noumea?” Paul asked on the boat looking at Norma.
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Copyright (c) 2018. Emma Blogs, LLC. All rights reserved.
Lowell, MI – The day after Thanksgiving, I finished the short story “40 Hunks” (c) 2018 Emma Palova logging into the #nanowrimo dashboard with a total of 43,723 words toward the 50K word marathon. That puts me on the final stretch to the winner mark on this publishing journey.
The story will become a part of the new collection of short stories “Secrets” (c) 2019 Emma Palova. After the revision period in January and February supported by #nanowrimo, it is my clear intention to have the book published next year.
The National Novel Writing Month, an Internet-based creative project, started in 1999 with 21 participants. It has grown over the years to 0.5 million participants around the globe.
Two days ago, I found a thank you letter in my email from the #nanowrimo executive director Grant Faulkner titled:
“Thank you for the light of your stories.”
It truly warmed my heart, as Grant described writer Matt Forbes’ reaction to his home burnt by the wildfires in Paradise, CA, as well as the entire community.
His response to tragedy? To create.
“I plan to write. That’s about all I can do…I don’t want one huge fire to burn out everything that was taken in its wake, and this is the only thing I can do to show otherwise.”
You can easily gauge your progress on the dashboard widget and graph.
Editing and revisions take place later in the months of January and February.
We also went out on Black Friday to Woodland Mall in Grand Rapids, and it was jam packed. The same story was in rural Greenville. Speaking about the economy booming, it definately was at JC Penney’s who practiced Black Friday on both days, Nov. 22 and Nov. 23.
The staff was exhausted:
“We’ve been opened for the last 24 hours,” said a tired clerk in the men’s clothing department.
Excerpts from “40 Hunks”
Book cover for “Secrets” aka the Face of Gossip.
“Not, now,” he said. “They have to be on the farm as soon as Friday.”
Antonio walked inside the gas station store looking around the shelves.
“You got booze,” he asked the scared girl.
Jose straightened up from the counter and looked at Antonio.
“No, booze on the bus,” he said strictly. “When we get there, you can talk to theproducer. Not here. We’re heading out.”
Antonio grabbed Jose by his shirt and tore it apart as he lifted Jose up on his feetand dragged him against the counter.
“ I said, I want some booze,” Antonio pulled out his knife and put it to Jose’s throat. “You girl give me some whiskey or I will slash his neck.”
Avlen quickly grabbed a bottle from behind her and handed it to Antonio, who opened it and drank from it, still holding Jose.
“That’s $20,” Avlen said to Antonio.
Antonio let Jose loose and turned him to Avlen like a puppet.
“You pay her,” he said. “I am going back on the bus.”
Jose gave Avlen the $20 bill shaking his head.
“Don’t call the police,” Jose begged. “I’d get in trouble that I let him loose.”
He waved to the girl and left the gas station store. Mike was smoking nearby shaking his head.
“I saw what happened,” he said. “Do you want me to call the police?”
Jose shook his head as he boarded the bus.
“No, I want us to get to the farm as fast as possible,” he said. “You deal with him at the farm with the producer. I don’t want to have anything to do with him. If he disappears, I won’t look for him.”
Featured photo: Butterflies from the Butterfly House on Mackinac Island.
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Lowell, MI – I would like to wish a Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends and followers around the globe.
As the tension in Europe intensifies with pending strikes in France and Czech Republic, I am deeply humbled by the Thanksgiving feast of hardiness and determination of our predecessors to survive.
I am thankful for this country’s abundance and the free creative spirit. I look forward to spending the holiday with our family from Big Rapids and Hastings. My deepest unfullfilled wish is for our French family to be here with us as well.
In the creative spirit of this free country, I logged in this morning with 42,578 words doing my personal part in the 50K word marathon.
The short story “40 Hunks” is a part of the new collection of short stories “Secrets” (c) 2018 Emma Palova. This is a sequel to “Shifting Sands: Short Stories” (c) 2017 Emma Palova.
It is my clear intention to see “Secrets” to print in 2019 after the revision months of January and February suppported by the National Novel Writing Month.
Tracking progress at 42,578 words on Thanksgiving, 2018.
The work guide didn’t respond and turned his head away from Jose. He got immediately on the phone with the central farm.
“We’re heading out,” he said. “I need to count the heads. There’s supposed to be 40 men aboard. I need to count them to make sure I don’t have 50. We already looked in the storage; just fuel containers, no extra men.”
Jose decided to mind his own business and ignored the guide who walked to the back of the bus counting the men.
Antonio got up angrily as the guide approached the back of the bus. His shirt was ripped in the back and he had leather bracelets on his wrists. He grabbed the handle bars below the ceiling of the bus, and swayed in front of the work guide.
“How may I help you, gringo?” said Antonio in broken English. “How many times are you going to count us? There are 40 men on this bus. That doesn’t include you and the driver. I want to keep it that way until we get there.”
Antonio looked at the work guide and ripped off his name tag and threw it on the floor.
“There you go,” he laughed. “You’re nobody. You white piece of shit. Remember that.”
Antonio fell back heavily on the torn seat with white fuzz sticking out. He pulled some of the fuss out of the seat.
“I’ll stick this into your mouth, if you don’t stay quiet,” threatened Antonio.
The guide retreated to the front by Jose, who was now whistling to a tune on his cassette player.
“Man,
you got a rough crowd here,” said the guide. “Who is that big dude?”
“Nobody, just like the rest of them,” said Jose. “Leave me alone. I need some rest.”
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Copyright (c) 2018. Emma Blogs, LLC. All rights reserved.
Daily insights not only from #nanowrimo 50 K creative project with excerpts
By Emma Palova
EW Emma’s Writings
Lowell, MI – As I plug along toward the 50K #nanowrimo novel writing goal, I observe daily life with new joy; that is the time when I don’t have to write.
National Novel Writing Month.
So, first of all: “Happy birthday Josephine Marie Palova.” The chocolate cake with the five princesses are all waiting for you.
Second: It’s a nice day out there with unusual November sunshine, so I took a ride to the tart cherry and apple H&W Farm on Belding Road to get some Thanksgiving goodies for the big feast tomorrow.
I got some fresh apple cider, Honeycrisp apples, chocolate covered tart cherries, hot pepper preserves, boysenberry jelly and cherry green tea from Cherry Republic in Glen Arbor.
With the exception of the delicious cider, all the goodies are going into a care package for my parents who are leaving for Venice, Florida the week after Thanksgiving.
With that said, I logged in this morning with 41,264 words in the 50K marathon while a few have reached the end of their sprint. My short story “40 Hunks” (c) 2018 Emma Palova has taken on a surprising spin.
The story will become a part of my new story collection “Secrets” (c) 2018 Emma Palova.
Who knows where this story will lead me?
Book cover for “Secrets” aka the Face of Gossip.
Excerpts from “40 Hunks”
The men arrived the next morning on the frozen central farm shaking with cold, thirst and hunger. They only knew the heat coming from the Sonoran Desert along with the “dust devils.” The producer showed them into the large barn with half-empty storage crates with Evercrisp apples. It was cold in the barn too. The producer known to friends as Frank was saving money on everything from heat to labor cost.
Jose watched the process along with work guide Mike carefully.
“We were expecting 40 men,” said Frank looking at the government list with names. He noticed one name was crossed off. “You know the drill; 40 men in, 40 men out at the end of the season. No tricks or I get in trouble with the government.”
Holding tight onto Mike’s shoulder, Jose immediately responded.
“Antonio couldn’t make it, he stayed at home sick,” said Jose looking directly at Mike.
Mike was shaking with fear as he felt the barrel of a gun press through his pants onto his thigh. He could hear the lyrics in his head from the bus ride, since the casette player played it over and over again.
Do you mean this horny creep, set upon weary feet, in need of sleep, That doesn’t come?
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Lowell, MI – Today is the first day, you can validate and claim your winner of NaNoWriMo title, if you have logged in with 50,000 words of any genre of literature.
National Novel Writing Month.
Today, I alternated between reporting from a township meeting for the Lowell Ledger and fiction writing of short stories. Yes, it can be done. I logged in with 39,358 words in the My Novel yellow box on the dashboard.
I started the short story “40 Hunks” (c) 2018 Emma Palova this morning. It will become a part of the new collection of short stories “Secrets.” (c) 2018 Emma Palova.
Takeaways
The most-valued takeaway from the #nanowrimo creative project is gauging your creative daily output measured by the widget in the dashboard.
The second insight is the fact that you can flip between the two categories of writing: non-fiction and fiction.
Excerpts from “40 Hunks”
Book cover for “Secrets” aka the Face of Gossip.
The list was far from being exact, but Jose knew once they entered the US territory, they would be assigned a permanent work guide. From there on, it was none of his business what’s going to happen with these men. The guides were correction officers borrowed from the regional correctional facilities in the US.
The border patrol in Nogales searched the smelly bus and studied Jose’s driver’s license and that piece of paper.
“How do you know who’s who?” barked a sweating guard with an AK47 across his shoulder, at Jose.
“Vaguely. I know that I have 40 men,” said Jose also sweating.
The guard boarded the bus and walked in the aisle examining each face, holding the piece of governmental paper in his hand. He stopped and looked closely at one man. The men were wide awake now. He leaned over the hulky man taking in his odor.
“Who are you?” he asked with his face distorted in an evil grimace.
Jose walked up to the two men in the back of the bus.
“Hey, amigo,” he said to the guard. “They don’t speak English.”
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Daily insights from #nanowrimo creative project, split between fiction and non-fiction writing
By Emma Palova
EW Emma’s Writings
Lowell, MI – I added three pages and finished the short story “Raspberry Rage” (c) 2018 Emma Palova bringing the total word count to 37, 028 in the 50K word marathon. That puts the new collection of short stories beyond the half-way point with six stories done.
Day 19 of the National Novel Writing Month
The takeaways from nanowrimo
The widget on the dashboard keeps track of your average daily writing rate and days to finish on time by Nov. 30. From the start, I averaged 1, 900 words. The projected finish will be on Nov. 26, according to the dashboard.
However, today I had to also write non-fiction “Christmas through Lowell” for the Lowell Ledger, which made up for the remaining three pages of the daily quota. Those non-fiction three pages will not tally into the creative project.
It was the biggest night of the year under the moon of falling leaves. The town of Riddleyville has been getting ready for the annual Ladies Night Out since lastyear.
Book cover for “Secrets” aka the Face of Gossip.
Everyone
has forgotten the fiasco when the city manager dressed up in an ugly sweater
with black cats and pumpkins and black pants that had a hole in them.
He
came running out of the city hall to greet the mayor, and the pants fell off of
him.
However,
being a man of no shame, Ricky just pulled them up and shook the mayor’s hand
smiling.
“You’re
dressed up Ricky, what’s going on?” asked the mayor.
“It’s
girls’ night out, and it’s almost Halloween,” Ricky put on his regular grimace
of an enslaved man. “I wanted to dress for the occasion.”
Ricky
was stubby with black hair and an occasional mustache that he from time to time
either shaved off or grew it into a goatee.
“You’re
not a girl or a lady Ricky,” said the mayor walking into the well-lit building.
“We need to talk about a few things.”
No
one has ever found out what the two talked about in the big office that night.
The
town had two memories; one forgiving and the other unforgiven.
Ricky
for the most part fell under the first category.
He
did remember not to dress up this time, since it was a chick flick night. Ricky
watched from his window the action on Main Street. He had a lot of paperwork to
finish, and the mayor too usually came in to chat.
Women of all ages were running in the street enjoying the warmth of the late autumn. Some were dressed up in their prom dresses from a long time ago; yellow, red, purple and blue. Ricky wondered how the heck they fit back in them. He himself couldn’t fit into anything remotely resembling his high school years. His pants were small, and his belly was overflowing like the proverbial muffin. Ricky fought it for years, then he gave in.
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