Since I was a young girl, I was curious about the meaning of dreams. There must be some meaning behind them. A collection of our thoughts and experiences from days gone past replayed, or expanded on, in our dreams. Maybe just a glimpse of something we passed by that did not have time to register fully or have our attention at that time, gets stuck inside our minds, in our subconsciousness.
I began my journey into the dream world and interpreted it through books, of course. Many claimed to be scientific but were unimaginative. This is when I stumbled upon lucid dreaming, and I was fascinated. I quickly became obsessed with the possibilities. Ideas poured into my mind over the years the more I read. If we could control aspects of our dreams, why not all of it? Is it really dreaming at that point? Your brain would not be resting but rather working, while you sleep. Would it still be called sleep? What if you could take those dreams into the waking world with you and manipulate events in your life? Worse, what if the characters in your dreams realized what was happening? What if they wanted a taste of the real world and not to be bound by your subconscious state? And, what if they were stronger than you? This idea and all the questions I had surrounding it is what brought Candle Lake to life beyond a young adult romance. Candle Lake is the love story of Tanishia and Shayne. In book one, I introduce you to these beautiful souls and their undeniable connection. I begin to play on the power of dreams using telepathy and outside forces as the driver. In Escape From Candle Lake, book two in the trilogy, I delve deep beyond lucid dreaming. I wanted to captivate readers beyond falling in love. Get your copy of Candle Lake here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C17TD9RK
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In 2011, after having devoured the Twilight series, I had difficulty finding another book that I enjoyed just as much that was also an easy read. Reading was my escape from working in a high stress job all day and then coming home to be a mother and housewife. At that time, I had four children ten years old and younger. I am a very active and involved mother; a member of the community. I needed books that were quick to read.
I asked everyone I knew if they had book recommendations. After continually searching, a friend introduced me to NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). She told me, if you can’t find a book to read, write it. I did my research and wanted to go for it, but I still wasn’t convinced I actually could. To convince me, she sent me a different book series she received as a beta reader. She told me to read it. She said it was a very easy read. I began to read it having no idea what I was getting into. As I began to read this new series, it soon began to frustrate me. The content was very adult, but the writing was very juvenile. When I spoke to her about it, her response was what made me decide to put pen down on paper. “You know you could write better than this. You need to do it.” I spoke to my husband about it. About this horribly written book with great content that I was reading. I reminded him of my dreams to be a writer myself. I told him about NaNoWriMo and my friend who not only believed I could do it but insisted that I do. He agreed to help with the kids more so that I could follow this dream. November 1, 2011, I began the very first draft of Candle Lake. Originally, Candle Lake was like all the other books of that time. It involved a love triangle and the angst that came with it. I pushed boundaries to include elements that were slowly moving from taboo to mainstream. There was one element in the story that I wanted to give more attention to, but I wasn’t sure how to do that without making the book extremely long while keeping the romance and keeping it as an easy read. I successfully completed NaNoWriMo and finished the first draft of Candle Lake. I spent months editing it. When I was satisfied with what I had I started to reach out to traditional publishers. I had one who took interest in my story and asked that I make some changes. I agreed with her suggestions, but I did not have the time to devote to it to make the deadline she wanted. I was then suggested to shelve it and let it sit. Over the years I watched that poorly written book skyrocket to success. I watched as others jumped on that train, writing books with similar content. I continued my search for books that were quick to read that held my attention. I shifted my focus to being a book reviewer and beta reader. I participated in writing challenges and started a “serial” on my website. Candle Lake sat for YEARS. Neglected but never forgotten. Ten years later I made the decision that it had sat for long enough. When I came back to it, I made the decision to remove the love triangle. To expand on the angst of the first true love. To expand on that element that fascinated me that I wanted present in my story. There was always a strong element of telepathy in Candle Lake, but I wanted to take this further. To explore the possibilities of a dream world. I have always been fascinated with lucid dreaming. People speak of lucid dreaming, of being in control of the narrative and the characters in their dreams. I wanted to explore this phenomenon. And I wanted to take it further. I wanted to draw my readers into the mystery and suspense all while having them fall in love with the characters. I deleted many, many scenes and added many more. I spent one and a half years rewriting Candle Lake to get the story I wanted to tell. I decided that I would self-publish instead of seeking a traditional publisher. This decision was made simply because I am impatient and did not want to send out query letters and wait! I decided to find an editor to work with to polish Candle Lake. I worked with Alex on editing Candle Lake to get it to where it is today. Published and available for readers around the world! If you would like to stay updated, you can follow me on these social media platforms through my linktree: https://linktr.ee/sweeterae Many people have nicknames. Some are given to them from their parents; names they have grown up with since childhood. My childhood nickname was Rach. How original!
Some people have made names for themselves to help them stand out from the crowd; be it in real life or for an online persona. With millions of people in the world, it makes sense for people to want their own unique names. Did you know, the name Rachel has been in the top 200 for girls since 1900? How can I be remembered with those odds? I wanted a name that was unique. One that would be remembered. At a sleepover my friend and I looked at all the letters of my name and somehow decided that Rae made the most sense. It was a sort of coming-of-age name. More unique than Rachel and more grown up than Rach. My friend liked it because whenever she was excited about something or wanted to convince me to go along with her bad idea, she could always get my attention by calling me “Rae-Rae” which she said sounded sweet. Sweete was added years later when I was in college. Having moved out at a young age, I struggled but I always gave what I had. I was always the first to volunteer. Simply put, I was a giver. I didn’t want others to struggle in the ways I had. I didn’t want to see others suffer if there was something I could do to prevent it. It was this quality that had everyone calling me sweet or sweetie. When the internet became a thing, I was searching for an online name that was true to who I was it seemed an easy choice. Wanting to be unique I chose “SweeteRae” or “Rae Sweete”. It is the name I have used online since the birth of online. In the AOL and Yahoo chatrooms I was known as SweeteRae. I carried this name over to FaceBook, Instagram, and Twitter. I saw a post on Twitter recently, asking how many times people have talked themselves out of a ticket. Cop: do you know why I pulled you over Me: ugh I don’t like this game sir Cop: miss, do you know why I pulled you over Me: *sigh* speeding Cop: no Me: *turns to face him* Huh. Really? So, it is the same here as in Calgary? Cop: how so miss? Me: Well in Calgary you can actually go 12 over the limit without a ticket Cop: *chest puffs* no miss Me: *slouches* oh Cop: so do you know why I pulled you over Me: *throws hands in the air and let’s the fall onto the steering wheel, overly dramatic* Are we still playing this game. *I look at the cop who says nothing* no sir. I told you I don’t like this game Cop: *taking notes* I’ll give you a hint. Has to do with the stop sign Me: *frowns at him* what?! I counted to 3 Cop: but miss *he raises an eyebrow* you didn’t actually stop first. You need to come to a complete stop first. Me: *huffs* well in my defense there was no one around Cop: I was right behind you miss Me: *giggles* if you were right behind me sir, I surely would have known Cop: *trying not to laugh* no miss Me: no? Cop: *shakes his head* no, look out your back window *he points* Me: *turns around. I can’t see the window. I have too many boxes.* Oh *I breath in defeat* Cop: oh *writing stuff down* Me: soooo what is my ticket for Cop: *laughs* I’ll give you a warning this time Me: really *I screech* Cop: yes *chuckles* Me: so what are you writing down? Is that for me Cop: yes it’s my number Me: *smiles* oh really Cop: my badge number Me: *frowns* oh. why? Cop: because I don’t want to see you again Me: oh. *frowns* That’s sad Cop: *laughing handing me the folded paper* if you get pulled over again before you get to where you’re going, hand the officer this Me: ooookaaay Cop: and no more speeding Me: so no 12 km grace Cop: no Me: alright Cop walking away I lean my head out my window and yell thank you Cop: *turns around and smiles* You’re welcome Rachel. Just be safe ok? Me: always 2 blocks away Me: *looks at speedometer* shiiit Cop: do you know how fast you were going miss Me: yes 65 Cop: you know the speed limit is 50 Me: *screeches* no it isn’t Cop: yes actually it is Me: with all due respect sir but you are mistaken Cop: *chuckles* no I’m afraid not miss. It’s residential Me: *pointing* actually sir again you are mistaken Cop: *huffs* how do you think that miss Me: *points to the right* there’s a boulevard. The residential street is on the other side of it. I am on the main road which is 60 Cop: how fast were you going Me: shrugs 65 Cop: even if what you say is correct, which *he points his pen at me* you are not, you were still speeding Me: *pffft* your paper costs more money than the ticket you could write me for being over by 5 Cop: you know you are obstructing a police officer right*he raises an eyebrow at me* Me: *sighs* actually sorry sir but again you are incorrect Cop: *smirking* really? Me: yes. I am not stopping you from doing anything Cop: ok. Let me ask you this. Something you cannot dispute Me: ok Cop: what did the speed limit sign say that you passed a block ago Me: what speed limit sign Cop: see. *sounding proud* You were going too fast to even see it Me: *again pointing to the right* actually me not seeing it probably has more to do with the fact that all these trees are over grown Cop: *looks over my car and mutters something. He looks back in at me* My mom: you know, I think my daughter is right sir Cop: *steps away from my car and laughs then returns* Listen to me Me: ok I’m listening Cop: the speed limit here is 50 and I expect you to drive 50 on this road from now on. Not 51. 50. Do you understand me Me: yes I do. Thank you for that educational moment Cop: you are cheeky Me: *shrugs* cheeky can be cute Cop: *raises an eyebrow* how fast are you going to drive on this road Me: not 51 Cop: *nods* You ladies have a nice day Me: thank you. You too sir. My mom: you know one day that won’t work for you Me: well * I shrug my shoulders* That cop followed me until I turned off that road. 15 minutes later. I fluctuated between 50 and 55 But not once did I do 51. Both of these interactions are true and are not a reflection of my writing style or ability. They are however, a reflection of my humour so that, dear readers, can know me a little better. We all have dreams in life. Or, at least I believe we should. My dream since I can remember, is, was, to be a writer. Every essay I wrote in class, every book report, short stories based on dreams or fears. I have tried writing in every genre. I have even written some poetry. I remember my parents signing me up for a kids book club because they were tired of the countless trips to the library. My brother tired of having to help me carry my pile of books home. Trying to get my friends interested in reading, I made my own little library in my room. In the summer, my dad kicked me and my books out to the shed behind the garage. I remember coming home one day from the park because it was raining. I thought it would be nice to sit on my cushions in my shed to read. When I opened the door, I was heartbroken. The roof of the shed was not waterproof. I cried and ran with armfuls of books back and forth from the shed to the house until all of them were rescued and safely back in my room. I don't think my dad ever understood why I was crying. When I told my mom, she understood. A week later, her friends had sent her home with a box of books for me. When I got a little older, one of my dad's friends gave me The Sword of Shannara. He told me that when I finished it, if I liked it, he would give me the rest of the series. I overheard him tell my dad that I was too young. That I may not like it and that even if I did, it would likely take me a long time to read it. My dad scoffed at him. "You clearly don't know Rachel," he said. My dad was right. I read the book within two weeks and begged him to give me the other two before I left for summer vacation. I finished them before we came home and begged my dad to take me to a bookstore. I walked out of the book store with a copy of The Stand. Terry Brooks and Stephen King were the start for me. Two completely different genres, different styles. So much talent, pulled me in. I started reading all sorts of books. Absorbing talent every where I could. I remember reading that to be a great author you had to be a great reader. That you had to have an open mind and explore all styles. By the end of that summer I bought a notebook and had started writing snippets of my own story ideas. I carried that notebook with me everywhere I went and wrote in it every time I had an idea. I would wake up in the middle of the night to scribble in the dark. I was a word addict. I was far from being Terry Brooks or Stephen King. I knew I would never get there if I didn't continuously work on it. I held my notebook sacred and never shared it with anyone. Until my next summer vacation. Dad and I were on our way home from summer vacation when dad was ushered by police officers to pull over on the highway. He was told that the highways were closed due to forest fires and we would have to either find a hotel or a campground. Being we were travelling in a camper, dad opted for the campground across the highway. It was a nice, quaint spot. It wasn't busy, which my dad appreciated. We picked a spot close to the water, next to a small car. After settling in we took a walk to the water. There, we found a man playing fetch with his dog. This dog was amazing. He didn't want to play normal fetch. He wanted to dive in the water to fetch rocks from the bottom.
We introduced ourselves to the man who happened to be our camp neighbor in the car. My dad, being the generous man he is, invited this new friend, Richard, to join us in our camper. We were camped there for over a week. During that time Richard watched me constantly with my nose in a book. Either reading or writing in my notebook. Regardless of my dad's protests, I had brought five books with me on vacation then bought four more while I was in the city. Being so young, this intrigued Richard. One night as we sat around the fire, I pulled out my notebook and started writing frantically. When I finished, I looked into the fire, a satisfied smile on my face. “You write a lot,” Richard observed, “Is it a diary?” “Actually, they are poems and stories." “Is that so?” Richard raised an eyebrow. Afraid of my dreams being made fun of, I put my head down, “Umm hmm. It is,” I said quietly. “Well,” he said loudly, forcing me to look up, his smile was genuine. “I write too.” That night Richard asked me to read him a story I had written. I was scared. What if he thought my writing was silly? I read the story anyway. Hesitantly, I looked up when I was done and found him speechless. After that, Richard would take me for a soda once a week where we would share our writings. His limericks were insightful and funny. He insisted I enter one of my poems into a contest. Without giving it another thought, I did it. To my surprise, I was one of the runners up in the contest. My poem was published in an anthology and put on a plaque at a courthouse in Washington State. Sadly, i had no money to buy a copy of the book and I have never had the opportunity to see my poem on the wall. When I left home, Richard wrote me letters, always encouraging me to write. Even to this day, he still emails me. He shares with me his poetry and asks when he can buy my books. Stephen King and Terry Brooks are my inspiration. Richard is my push. What do you aspire in life? Who, or what, inspires you or is your "push"? Please leave a comment below or on my Twitter or my FaceBook. As always, thank you for your support. An alien civilization, observing our planet for thousands of years, has chosen one individual to make its initial contact with the human race. Maybe they chose the wrong human. Th FI is a written narrative backed up with links to video to take you further into the drama and interaction of its unforgettable characters. As a favor to her aunt, Alice drives into Arizona's stark and bleak Sonoran Desert to check up on her cousin who has mysteriously left his job as a chemical engineer in Houston and has moved onto the family's abandoned jojoba farm. No one has hear from in in six months. Alice hasn't seen her cousin in years. She recalls the egotistical socially dysfunctional boy that tormented her throughout her childhood. When she meets him again she finds that not much has changed about his unpleasant personality, but when he begs her to return to videotape a message he desperately needs to share with the world, Alice must make a fateful choice that will affect the rest of her life. First, I will start by noting that I did not receive any compensation for this honest review. As the description above states, this book was unlike any other that I have read before in that it had QR codes that linked to videos. Reading this book reminds me why I loved doing book reviews in the first place. Sci-Fi is not my usual first pick for when I buy a book, so getting it to review was a gift. I truly enjoyed this book. The story explores the main character's interaction with an alien species. It uses the dynamics of family relationships and friendship to tell a tale. The story flows nicely and is quick to pull you in. I was a little worried at one point that there would not be enough pages left to wrap it up. Thankfully I was wrong and Paul pulled it all together smoothly and effortlessly. Paul did a great job with his debut novel and I sincerely hope to see more from him. Buy your copy on Amazon here and click to follow this author for more. You can also read my GoodReads review here. You can have a look at my profile for other reviews I have done. Please leave a comment below or on my Twitter or my FaceBook. If you would like me to review your book, please send me a message. As always, thank you for your support. "It put them into an absolute frenzy. Actually did a little damage." Seeing this, what appears to be a rose, all alone in front of a house in a neighborhood in which many of the homes resemble small castles, I thought of my favorite fairy tale, Beauty and the Beast.
There are many versions of Beauty and the Beast. However, the common theme is that a Prince is transformed into a Beast as punishment. In one version, even his castle looses its glamor so to not be attractive to others. The Beast must find someone to love him and to love them in return. He must do so before an enchanted rose he was given, dies. Belle, a plain but beautiful girl, always has her nose in a book. Her father, in one version, is an inventor. He gets lost in the woods and stumbles upon what appears to be a deserted castle where he seeks shelter to wait out a storm. There, he meets the Beast who holds him captive. Belle goes out in search of her father and finds the castle in which he is being held captive. For her fathers freedom, Belle offers herself as a prisoner instead. It does not take the Beast long to fall in love with the beautiful Belle. He offers her beautiful clothes, fabulous food, the company of his servants, and of course, a library of books. It is not horrible to be held captive in this massive castle. Overtime Belle gets homesick, missing her father. The Beast agrees to let her go home with her promise to return. When Belle returns, the hunter from the village who loves her, follows her. He hurts the Beast and Belle acknowledges her love for the Beast. Beast survives and not only is he transformed back into the handsome Prince, but the castle returns to its glamorous state. Belle and the Prince, or Beast, live happily ever after. Being one who grew up always with her nose in a book, who has always dreamed of living in a castle with a library, this fairy tale is naturally my favorite. My strength, and maybe sometimes also my weakness, is to always see the good in people. Just as Belle saw the good in the Beast. I asked on Twitter, what other fairy tales are favorites. One person said Beauty by Robin McKinley which is actually a retelling of Beauty and the Beast. And, another person said The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle. I have added both of these to my Read list on GoodReads. What is your favorite fairytale? Please leave a comment below or on my Twitter or my FaceBook. As always, thank you for your support. After a six year break, I am back! And back with a vengeance. Or, at least, a plan. One of the things I learned on this journey of being a writer is that you have to find your balance. You have to look at your life and set your priorities. Like many writers, I can’t afford to quit my day job to be a full time writer. And so, balance is key. I started this journey in 2011 when I accepted the NaNoWriMo challenge at the recommendation of a friend. I surprised myself and completed the very first manuscript of “Candle Lake” in that one month. I then spent time revising it and then sending it out for queries. Feedback I received was to build my author platform and to do some more revisions on my manuscript. And so I set forth with the idea to get my name out there and started to build my platform. I networked with many talented writers. I felt great. However, I quickly learned, I had no balance. Working a full time job, being a mom to four very active, young children, volunteering as a Scout Leader and Group Commissioner, and partnering with my husband to run a household, all while trying to become a published author, I simply could not find enough hours in my days. I wanted to do it all. And do it all well. Better than well. Sadly, in 2015, after a devastating car accident and another injury that my eldest son endured, my life as I knew it came crashing down around me. I left the social media world and closed all of my writing projects. Even my art journals. I have spent the last five years trying to make sense of the accident and incident, recovering both physically and emotionally, and focusing on raising strong and healthy kids. So, why now? Simply put, writing is my passion. I have stories I need to tell. To be an author whose books are at the public library is my dream. Following my dream is teaching my kids that one should never give up. What makes this time different? Well, for starters, my children are not so young. I no longer volunteer, although I miss it dearly. I have switched companies for one that fuels my passion in my profession. It’s amazing how working for the right employer makes your work seem less like work and therefore doesn’t drain your mental energy force. Most importantly, I have a plan. Because, the truth is, I am no less busy or in demand today than I was six years ago, the demands are just different. I have made the edits to Candle Lake and currently it is with a reader. While it is off, I am working on resurrecting, and finishing, Cold. If you are a returning visitor to my blog, thank you for coming back! You may remember, Cold was my Serial Saturday Series (I love alliteration). I have pulled all but the first chapter off the blog and am working on finishing this piece. When Candle Lake comes back, I will do the last set of edits and send it out for query. Follow me on this journey that can be sometimes discouraging but oh so rewarding. I also have books on their way to me so that I can do some reviews for fellow authors. I hope you will read those and show some support to them as well. From time to time I will invite you to give me writing prompts so I can practice my craft. I will share adventures with you, my readers, of the great city I live in and various places in Western Canada. There is some beautiful scenery here that everyone should experience once in their life. My notebook is filled with ideas of blog posts and social media posts to share with you as I make my way through this journey. I am ready to make adjustments as I go along because finding balance is a life long project. What are your struggles and how do you find balance? Please leave a comment below or on my Twitter or my FaceBook. As always, thank you for your support.
1. I have reread several books, just because I love them. Do you do that, if so which book have your read the most? If I had the time to reread books, I would. There are a few that I love and feel that another reading is necessary to catch all the small details. In reality, I reread many books, for the children! My favorite by far is Winnie the Pooh’s ABC Picnic and I love you Forever. 2. Is there a time you think Fiction, no Non-Fiction? Sometimes I have to read something real. I read to escape (not that I have much to escape from!) so I prefer fiction. However, I do love to learn and research so I do read a lot of non-fiction. But no, I never think I need to read something real. 3. I love certain authors for the way they write, they way they can craft a sentence, a good sentence is wonderful. Do you have any books that you feel are just beautifully written, works of art? LOTS! Stephen King is my favorite writer. I really enjoyed Terry Brooks. Robert Jordan was great, but since having babies I find my brain to easily distracted to continue reading his work. There was a book called Gargoyle that was a wonderful surprise. And then there are numerous teen books I have read that developed a great new world and did well at keeping subject matters appropriate for teens. 4. When I was young I bought a used book at a second hand store called "The Beast Regiment." it was great, and I haven't been able to find a copy since then. Do you have any ideas for me? Hmmmm, have you tried Amazon? Is this it? 5. Writing is personal, reading is solitary. But sharing a great book is such a joy. Do you think books are the beauty that can save the world? To me this means…each persons’ creativity that provides happiness and joy is what can save the world. Okay, so now I need to nominate five bloggers and ask five questions. Well, to be honest, I do not have much luck in my choices responding to these sorts of things so instead, I would like to nominate my READERS! If you don’t blog, please feel free to post your answers in the comment section below.
I seem to always start my week off good. Up early, get my workout done and rush off to work to report in at my desk right when I am supposed to. But as the week goes on, I get tired.
This week was no exception. In fact, it was worse than last week. Yesterday and today I woke up too late to workout before leaving the house. And, unfortunately, I was still a few minutes late to my desk. This was not the week for being tired at work. Workload has doubled, at least. And the stress pollen floating in the air clings to any unsuspecting victim, anxious to drain their energy force. Thankfully, I was expecting those little stress bubbles and for the most part was successful at bouncing them off. But it was still draining because for others to cope, delegating was in full force. Big changes happened last week, so I knew this was coming. I just reminded myself it is what I am paid for. However, I am thankful it is Friday and the work week is finished! I am excited for my workout tomorrow. Yes! Excited! Tomorrow is legs and core day and this routine is one of my favorites. It will take me longer as I have 20 exercises in this routine (compared to my usual 10 for strength days). And this is why it is saved for Saturdays! Because on Saturday, I can afford that little bit of extra sleep AND that extra time to get in a great workout! What do YOU have planned for the weekend? Please leave a comment below or on my Google+ or my FaceBook. As always, thank you for your support. |