MUSE MONDAY
Join me in welcoming back Joanne Guidoccio to Discover Yourself. Always a good guest!
When I decided to pursue my writing dream, I imagined one of the nine
daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne visiting each morning, taking my hand, and
guiding me to the computer. There, she would remain, offering words of
encouragement until I produced my daily quota of words.
That was the fantasy.
The reality was very different.
I was unprepared for the tyranny of the blank page. While everything was
in place—business cards, new computer, dreams of a runaway best-seller—my
writing muscles refused to budge.
Hoping for inspiration, I researched the writing rituals of famous
authors:
·
Alexander Dumas
color coordinated his paper. He used blue paper for novels, yellow paper for
poetry and rose-colored pages for nonfiction.
·
Mark Twain and
Truman Capote write lying down.
·
Ernest
Hemingway sharpened dozens of pencils before starting to write.
·
Willa Cather
read the Bible before writing each day.
·
Before picking
up his pen, John Donne liked to lie in an open coffin. (I wonder about this
one!)
·
Honoré de
Balzac drank vast quantities of black coffee, ensuring that he could write all
day and night.
·
Maya Angelou
rose at 5 a.m., gathered her legal pads, a bottle of sherry, playing cards, a
Bible, and Roget’s Thesaurus and checked into a hotel room (stripped of all
stimuli from the walls). She would write 12 pages before leaving in the
afternoon and edit the pages in the evening.
Eventually, I came up with my own ritual. Nothing too dramatic, but it
works for me.
While having a leisurely breakfast (one of my retirement perks), I don’t
linger over that second cup of coffee. If I choose to have more than one cup, I
do so while checking email and social media. At nine-thirty, I start writing.
My goal is 1000 words a day. At first, I used the oven timer to keep me on
task, but that annoying sound reminded me of incessant school bells, so I
invested in a bird clock. Each hour, one of my feathered friends, among them
the Downy Woodpecker, Belted Kingfisher, and Great Horned Owl, chirp and remind
me to pace myself.
Blurb
When Gilda Greco invites her closest friends to a VIP dinner, she plans
to share David Korba’s signature dishes and launch their joint venture— Xenia,
an innovative Greek restaurant near Sudbury, Ontario. Unknown to Gilda, David
has also invited Michael Taylor, a lecherous photographer who has throughout
the past three decades managed to annoy all the women in the room. One woman
follows Michael to a deserted field for his midnight run and stabs him in the jugular.
Gilda’s life is awash with complications as she wrestles with a certain
detective’s commitment issues and growing doubts about her risky investment in
Xenia. Frustrated, Gilda launches her own investigation and uncovers
decades-old secrets and resentments that have festered until they explode into
untimely death. Can Gilda outwit a killer bent on killing again?
Excerpt
“I’m a nobody
here,” David said, glancing down at his plate. “And with my credit rating, none
of the banks would endorse a loan. I’m screwed.”
“What if I backed
you?” I couldn’t believe I was speaking so casually, all the while my heart
beat at an alarming rate.
David rubbed a
hand over his chin and flashed a grin at me. “Gilda, darling, you’re sweet to
offer, but I don’t think you know what’s involved here.”
Susan nodded in
agreement.
Were they playing
me, I wondered. Since winning nineteen million dollars in Lotto649, I had
encountered many sharks who hoped to prey on my easy-going nature. A quick
Google search would have revealed my three-year-old lottery win. Old news, but
still there on the second and third pages.
“Would one hundred
thousand dollars be enough?” I asked. “In case you don’t know, I won a major
lottery several years ago.” Since winning, I had received many proposals from
across the province and had backed three local ventures. In each case, I had
chosen to remain a silent partner.
David’s right hand
trembled as he poured himself another glass of wine. Susan’s mouth dropped
open, and she gave a little gasp.
“I take it that’s
a yes,” I said.
More mild protests
followed, and another bottle of wine disappeared. We were all a bit tipsy when
we shook on the agreement. And so Xenia was born.
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Bio
In 2008, Joanne
took advantage of early retirement and decided to launch a second career that
would tap into her creative side and utilize her well-honed organizational
skills. Slowly, a writing practice emerged. Her articles and book reviews were
published in newspapers, magazines, and online. When she tried her hand at
fiction, she made reinvention a recurring theme in her novels and short
stories. A member of Crime Writers of Canada, Sisters in Crime, and Romance
Writers of America, Joanne writes cozy mysteries, paranormal romance, and
inspirational literature from her home base of Guelph, Ontario.
Where to find
Joanne...
