Karen M. Bence Author Journal

Happy Halloween!

noreply@blogger.com (Karen M. Bence) — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 19:43:00 +0000

Do you know that Halloween is my favorite holiday? In my eyes, it far surpasses all others in sheer fun and delight, easily topping Thanksgiving, Christmas, the Fourth of July, and every other national day of celebration. The first memory I have of Halloween comes from about age three; I recall being decked out as Casper, The Friendly Ghost. Back in the late 1960s, costumes were not very elaborate. They basically consisted of a rectangular, colored sack (in my case, white) and a simple plastic mask. Quite frankly, I think I need to give some credit to Casper for inspiring my fascination with ghosts.

During the early years of my childhood, we lived in New York City. Trick-or-treating there consisted of knocking on every door of the apartment complex as we made our way from floor to floor, but this didn't last long. By the time I was school-aged, we were living in the suburbs. This brought a whole new level of excitement to Halloween. Middle childhood is filled with some of my most cherished memories. One of the best comes from being in a 4-H club; each year we would host a party for the community. Highlights included a blindfolded autopsy, where "body parts" with a creative twist were passed from trembling hand to trembling hand, and a walk through the "haunted woods" near our club's stable. I'm sure you can imagine the kinds of things innocent children would encounter along the darkened trail: open graves, zombies, ghosts, witches, and more. The screams of terror rang out through the night. Ah, good times! I bet you are getting a clearer idea of how I've come up with some of the ideas for my books, Midnight Revelations and The Unrepentant Siren.

I left childhood behind, but not my love for Halloween or ghosts. When you become a parent, it's like hitting the holiday lottery. You get to relive it, but with the extra enjoyment of watching your child discover the joys of (safely) having the tar scared out of him. Over the years, we've gone above and beyond to deck the house out in all its gloomy and gory glory. It's too bad we rarely get trick-or-treaters. I guess the screams in the night have them too spooked to walk down that long path to the front door. As I said, ah, good times.

As for this coming weekend, I'll be spending the few days leading up to Halloween at book signings in Pennsylvania (Doylestown Book Shop on 10/28, 7 to 9pm) and Virginia (Second Chapter Books in Middleburg, 10/29, 5-7pm and Books & Co., Lexington 10/30, 2-4pm) . They will be great opportunities to pick up a paranormal story, or two, to put you in the right state of mind. Just be sure to read with the lights on!

noreply@blogger.com (Karen M. Bence) — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 20:55:00 +0000

I was recently diagnosed with having an ulcer. I'm not surprised. I have a teenaged son who just learned how to drive. You see, I lived through those early days, or should I say miles, when my fingernails were regularly impaled into the dashboard. You would think being driven around for 16 years would create a kind of osmosis, but no, not in this case. I surmised early on that multi-tasking was going to be a challenge for my first and only born; learning to steer while using the gas or brake pedal was a scene plucked right out of a dark comedy. I chalked the experience up to contributing to the country's Stimulus Plan, it gave one happy landscaper the chance to replace tire-flattened shrubbery. Eventually we made it out of the driveway. Let me tell you, I made a mistake by failing to wear a pair of Depends that afternoon. I recall repeatedly telling my son to slow down, even though we were only doing 25 in a 45 mph zone. At least once, it felt as if the car was teetering on two tires as we zoomed around a corner. I tried in vain to stay calm as the car rolled closer and closer to the rear bumper of a car idling at a red light. Ultimately a high-pitched crescendo of "Stop! Stop! Stop!" escaped from my hyperventilating mouth. I was determined there would be no casualies on my watch.

Oh yes, those first few trips were nerve-wracking, but nothing prepared me for the terror involved in sending him off on his own. After many months of daily trips to nowhere in particular, and a few cases of Tums, the boy/man took his driving test and passed. He was so proud of himself, and I have to admit I was proud of both of us, and thankful to have made it out alive. He joined the ranks of his fellow classmates, cruising to school in their parents' well-worn, but heavily air-bagged old vehicles. The deal we struck was that he would text me once he made it to school safely. It took all of two days for that rule to fly out the window. As the start of the school day came and went, visions of crumpled metal filled my imagination. The school secretary was very polite as she fielded my panicked call to see if he actually arrived. I could tell it wasn't her first time at this rodeo. Of course my son feigned innocence when he arrived home, claiming he absolutely, positively sent a text; it just wasn't to me. Apparently Molly and Mom are very close on his contact list. He has since been more careful.

All was motoring along smoothly as he showed renewed effort to appease my need for reassurance that he made it to his designated destination. A couple of nights ago, he obediently phoned as he was preparing to drive home from school. The 18 mile, suburban Atlanta trip takes approximately an hour during the evening rush hour. When I received a second call twenty minutes later, I knew it couldn't be good. My heart did an unscripted jig as I pressed that "talk" button and asked, "What's wrong?" The answer was better than I expected, allowing me to breathe once more, and therefore avoid passing-out. He was rear-ended while sitting at the stop sign located at the end of the school's driveway. A mother, late in picking up her brood of kidlets, simply forgot to look in the actual direction to which she was rolling. Thankfully the low speed bump caused no injuries and only minimal damage to the car. Unfortunately, my newbie driver's confidence didn't fare so well. He took the incident to heart and doubled down on safety, and his speed. On his way to school the next morning, a police officer used the speaker on his cruiser to blare a warning to keep up with traffic. I may have the only male driver under the age of 25 who has gotten chastised for going too slow. There are worse things, plus I get to store this episode away to use in a book someday. Lucky kid.

I'm Feeling in the "Festive" Mood!

noreply@blogger.com (Karen M. Bence) — Wed, 14 Sep 2011 17:08:00 +0000

I have a confession. It's not anything scandalous, so get your mind out of the gutter. If you could hear me, I would be yelling it loudly and proudly off a balcony versus whispering it softly into your ear in a secluded corner. It is the simple fact that I love book festivals. A matter of fact, I may be an addict. There may be a self-help group devoted to curing my craving, but I have no intention of joining. The crowds that attend are usually a mix of bibliophiles, who consume a range of titles across the full spectrum of genres, aspiring authors looking for guidance on the road to becoming published, and industry related types, such as reviewers and self-proclaimed marketing gurus. There is an excited buzz that goes through the crowd as they seek out their favorite established authors, and then stumble across promising debut novels from newbies.

The last few years I've been to my fair share of festivals. The most recent was The Decatur Book Festival in Decatur, Georgia. If you are not familiar with this city, it is a very hip town on the outskirts of Atlanta. DBF is one of the biggest and most well organized book festivals in the country, and it is only five years old. Personally, I think that is quite impressive. It runs over Labor Day weekend, allowing fans who have traveled to Atlanta for DragonCon (the premier fantasy and Sci-fi fan convention) to take a quick side trip out to DBF. I was there this year to chat with old fans, make some new ones, and to sign copies of my two books, Midnight Revelations and The Unrepentant Siren. I was humbled by the number of people who sought me out, excited that I made it back with my new novel. There isn't anything more exciting to me than being able to talk to someone about their reaction and thoughts on my characters and plot. It fills my heart with joy when I hear, "I never saw the twist at the end coming."

The next stop on my 2011 book festival tour will be The Festival of Reading in St. Petersburg, Florida. This will be my second trip down to this festival, which is held Oct. 22nd, from 10am to 5pm. It runs simultaneously with another fan based Sci-fi, Fantasy, and Horror convention, the NecronomiCon. The convention, which I attended last year, is held about a block or two away at the St. Petersburg Hilton. Again, having both on the same weekend allows for fan migration. Although The Festival of Reading is only a one day event, it is well run and in a gorgeous location. So if you love books and can squeeze in a get-away to a tropical paradise, I highly recommend you make your travel arrangements today. I hope to see you there.

The Georgia Launch of The Unrepentant Siren

noreply@blogger.com (Karen M. Bence) — Wed, 31 Aug 2011 18:23:00 +0000

Last Friday evening, the Peerless Book Store in John's Creek, Georgia hosted the official Georgia Launch of my new novel, The Unrepentant Siren. It turned out to be a fantastic, and if I dare brag, a very well attended event. Late comers were stuck standing in the back of the room, which wasn't so bad considering it was closer to the wine and hors d'oeuvres. The co-owners of this recently opened independent book shop, George Scott and Mike and Susan Jimison, could not have been nicer or more supportive before, during, and after the event. If you couldn't make it out that evening, be sure to stop by and support this wonderful new store.

I started the evening casually mingling with those brave enough to tackle the Friday evening Atlanta area traffic. This alone could have dissuaded throngs of people from showing up, but thankfully my fans are hearty souls. There were some familiar faces, but plenty of new ones too. After about a half an hour of chatting about my writing, I sat down for a more formal discussion of my books, my background, my process, and where the series goes from here. A question and answer period followed.

Members from Atlanta Writers Club showed up to support the event. There were a number of local authors, as well as a few aspiring writers, who were interested in picking my brain about my journey to becoming published. My first novel, Midnight Revelations, was born out of a stubborn nature, thick skin, and a dose of luck all mixed together with a good story. Other than a celebrity memoir, I think most first books start out the same way. Thankfully The Unrepentant Siren was an easier sell.

One of the other questions, was related to how I write. I find that I have to devote huge chunks of quiet, solitary time to creating my stories, months on end spending anywhere from 4 to 8 hours a day at the keyboard. I don't even listen to music because I find it too distracting. I can't turn my creative juices on and off at random hours or spread it apart across days or weeks like some other authors do. When I'm in the zone, I'm there full tilt. The rough first drafts of both books were able to be churned out in approximately six months using this system. I feel for those who are trying to squeeze writing into an already packed 40+ hour work week.

One of the other questions related to working from an outline. Personally, I find it helpful to have a skeleton from which to drape the meat of my story. Some authors use note cards pinned to a wall, allowing them to shuffle the order as necessary. I don't feel that much detail is necessary, plus I don't have the wall space for that method. A few sheets of notebook paper or a word file work fine for me.

I think one of the more interesting topics covered during the evening related to how my background in social work and psychotherapy influenced my characters and plots. Using real people or real cases would have been completely unethical. I would never betray the clients I served. However, the themes related to coping, trauma, personality development, family dysfunction, and grief pulsate throughout the two stories. They wind themselves through the human experience, allowing readers to relate.

Overall the evening was a resounding success and enjoyed by all. I'm looking forward to a repeat performance at the Peerless Book Shop when my next novel is released. I'll be sure to keep my fans posted. As for now, I'm onto the next event, The Decatur Book Festival being held this coming Saturday and Sunday (9/4-9/5). Be sure to check back in about a week when I review my experience. I hope to see you there.

Summer Doldrums

noreply@blogger.com (Karen M. Bence) — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 16:56:00 +0000

It has been about three weeks since I wrote my last blog entry. Time sure does fly. I think I've fallen into a semi-hypnotic trance from the cicadas chirping away in the oppressive August heat. Yes, my procrastination can only be blamed on those distracting little insects. I apologize. As a former Yankee, I should be able to snap myself out of it, but you see, I've lived here too long. I've given into the culture. Everything and everyone moves slower in the South during the summer. I can't imagine how anything industrious ever took place before the invention of air conditioning. It's times like this when I picture a small gaggle of refined ladies fanning themselves on a stately front porch of a Georgian mansion. Of course their corsets are all so tight that they eventually faint, requiring an intravenous infusion of sweet tea, but bless their hearts for trying to catch a breeze.

So you can see, I'm caught in a sticky dilemma - humidity sticky, if you know what I mean. My heart yearns to churn out blog entries week after week, but my brain has been dulled by the unrelenting weather and a chorus of over sized crickets. I get a brilliant idea, then pop, it's gone, or at least shelved until I can finish this pitcher of the South's official elixir. If Al Gore is right, those of you who reside in cooler, more temperate regions may be finding yourself in our condition soon enough. Take my advice and learn to relax, practice makes perfect. There will be time to be productive once the mercury drops.

While I'm waiting for Autumn to usher in a surge of creativity, I'll take advantage of every passing cold front to push out another blog post. This is also why I've waited until the end of the season to launch The Unrepentant Siren in my home state of Georgia. Local fans are sure to be brave enough to leave their air-conditioned cocoons by August 26th. Peerless Book Store will undoubtedly be swarmed as people awaken from the summer doldrums. I'm betting on cooler evening temperatures to lure folks out of their easy chairs, well, that and a thrilling, nail-biter of a story. And if all else fails, I'll have sweet tea!

The End of an Era

noreply@blogger.com (Karen M. Bence) — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 16:24:00 +0000

When my son was about four or five years old, a friend recommended we read him this entertaining new book about a group of young wizards. This was approximately twelve years, seven books, eight movies, and a theme park attraction ago. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, the book was Harry Potter and The Sorcerer’s Stone, written by J.K. Rowling. The series spanned the majority of my son’s childhood. He, along with millions of other children worldwide, had his imagination held captive to the wild, and often dangerous, adventures of Harry, Hermione and Ron. It prompted a generation of boys to read voraciously, proving that a truly magical spell had been cast!

It was my husband who brought the first book to life for my son. He would read to him in the evenings before bed, animating each character’s voice with a unique flare. By the second book, my son’s reading ability had expanded exponentially, while simultaneously his patience had dwindled. He needed to devour the words at a faster pace. The first phase of our relationship with Harry Potter was over when he left his dad clinging only to those bittersweet memories of bedtime. My first grader cracked open the cover to The Chamber of Secrets on his own.

It wasn’t long before the books couldn’t be printed fast enough. The thing about the series was that it went from being a children’s book to something so much more. It was a story about true friendship, loyalty, integrity, and the ever present battle between good and evil. The depth of the story matured along with the characters, and in doing so, captured the attention of adults all around the globe.

The director of the first movie did something few directors have been able to accomplish, transform a much loved novel into a much loved film. It stuck so closely to J.K. Rowling’s words and world that the fans climbed blissfully on board. The back and forth between novel releases and movie releases marked the seasons, and as Harry graduated each grade level, so did my son. Before I knew what was happening, they both grew into young men.

Last December, we took a trip to Orlando and went to the Universal Studios theme park version of Hogwarts. We were all magically transported into the midst of Harry’s world. It exceeded all of our expectations. As we were leaving that day, my son leaned down from his 6’3” height and told me his childhood was complete. I laughed a little as I recalled those early days of the story being read to him, the Halloween costume that transformed my elementary age son into Harry’s twin, and the long lines at our local bookstore as the most recent installment in the lengthy tale was being unveiled. But in reality, there was one chapter yet to come – the final movie.

Last night, at the conclusion of the 3D Version of Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part 2, I finally felt in my heart what my teenaged son uttered to me last winter. As the last scene unfolded before my tearful eyes, I realized that the journey was as magical and transformational for me as it was for him. It marked the end of an era. I have gone from being a mother attending to the many needs of a preschool child to one learning how to let go of a young man preparing for an independent life. The visits to colleges and universities that have marked the earlier part of this summer were a milestone. Harry reminded me that the end is just the beginning.

So as I let go of this special stage in my life, I’m thankful that I’ve spent the last few years branching out in new directions, although there are some familiar themes. When writing Midnight Revelations and The Unrepentant Siren, I purposefully filled my main character Sara’s fictional life with relationships that I can relate to – being a wife and a mother of a son, one that is growing up too fast. As an author, I stand in awe of J.K. Rowling for the truly remarkable way she was able to move and touch so many lives through her words. I think part of her undeniable “magic” was being able to make something fantastic common to all.

So with this I say to Harry and his friends, “Goodbye and thanks for a lovely time.”

Love It or Hate It, I Need To Have It

noreply@blogger.com (SterlingHouse Publisher, Inc.) — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 15:50:00 +0000

I have a confession to make. I have a love-hate relationship with technology. There it is, out in the open. When I first started writing my debut novel, Midnight Revelations, I was one step above being completely computer illiterate. I know what that sounds like to all the tech savvy 30 and under crowd. It's a little like saying I didn't make it out of first grade, but to those of us who made it through high school, college and graduate school with nothing more than a typewriter, you know what I'm talking about.

Over time, I have been forced into this uneasy relationship with this ever shrinking box of wonders. I harnessed my fears and learned to navigate the world of windows. Yes, I even learned how to type a document on "Word." I discovered how to retrieve an entire manuscript which mysteriously vanished into the computer abyss. Of course, I did have some help from my then eleven-year-old son. Over the course of the last six years, I have written two books, a couple of short stories, done more editing than I would like to recall, and surfed the internet with abandon.

With the release of my most current novel, The Unrepentant Siren, I decided, with some prodding from my fabulous web guru, Nicole, to add a blog to my website. Of course, I started this the same time that I kick off my book tour. Clearly, driving and writing are at odds, so I anticipated that squeezing in the time to write a blog would be a challenge. Little did I know, that would be the least of the hoops I would be jumping through.

There was a sudden tipping in my relationship with technology – firmly toward hate. I am many things, but a computer medic I am not. First my trusty old desktop catches a virus and it is RIP. The situation forces me to use an unfamiliar computer with operating systems that are so foreign logging on should have required a passport. Thankfully, my now teenaged son swooped in and saved the day with a brief tutorial, accompanied by more than one sideways glance of sympathy for my old and easily confused brain. I thought I had the problem solved, when the fickle technology god looked down from "the cloud" and frowned upon me yet again! Out goes the modem. No internet!

So things are looking serious now. Trekking back and forth to the neighborhood coffee shop was not scheduled into my calendar! I contacted my local internet provider and they assured me that a brand, spanking new one would be arriving in the mail the following week. Time ticked by slowly as I waited by the mailbox. The promised day of delivery slipped by, and still no modem. It feels a little like being stranded on a desert island – I am isolated and helpless. I never realized how dependent on the internet I've become to connect me to the larger world. Yet, I'm not sure if being so dependent is a good thing. But let me tell you, I’ll be one happy author when I am plugged into that little box of wonders once more.

On the Road Again

noreply@blogger.com (SterlingHouse Publisher, Inc.) — Thu, 23 Jun 2011 14:39:00 +0000

The release of my new paranormal mystery, The Unrepentant Siren, has me back on the road for book signings and author appearances. The kick-off was at Dickinson College during the school’s Alumni Weekend. I’m very fortunate to have gone to a small liberal arts school that is so supportive of their alumni. Even though it wasn’t my reunion year, Dickinson rolled out the red carpet. They did a fabulous job promoting the release, culminating in a good turnout. During my previous book tour, it amazed me how many old friends I came across as I zigzagged my way around the country. The start of this tour was no different. Dickinson was filled to the brim with folks I hadn’t seen in decades, yet the vast majority turned out to buy the book and wish me well. There was a palpable sense of community. I’m not sure what gives me a better feeling, completing a well-received novel, or having the opportunity to use my books as a means to reignite old friendships. I think it is a win-win for sure.

I left Dickinson with an enthusiastic attitude, ready to tackle my next stop: The Bram Stoker Convention and Awards. When I started writing, I never considered creating a story that could crossover into the Horror genre, but somehow those elements of my books that examine the frailties, fears, and “masks” that people wear to navigate their lives resonated in that world, and it didn’t hurt that there were ghosts too. So off to Bram Stoker I drove with both Midnight Revelations and The Unrepentant Siren in hand for two book signings. The convention, filled with panel discussions and workshops, is a wonderful place to learn from some of the masters in the world of literature and horror. It lets aspiring authors, those with only one or two books under their belts, publishers, and the most venerable of best-selling icons mingle and talk business. The signings allowed me to reintroduce my first novel, Midnight Revelations, and unveil my new release, The Unrepentant Siren, to a targeted audience. Some people may think this was work, but the truth is that I had a tremendous amount of fun. As the convention drew to a close, I couldn’t help but think ahead to next year’s Stoker Awards, which will be combined with the World Horror Convention. I’m counting the days.

So off I go to my next release event, my first appearance in a public book store. I’ll be turning around and flying back up to New York for a signing at The Book Cove in Pawling on Saturday, June 25th at 11am. This is my second trip to this particular store. When Midnight Revelations was hot off the press in 2009, the management asked me to be involved in their program, March Mystery Madness! It was standing room only and one of their best attended events. I’m hoping the release of The Unrepentant Siren sees a repeat in the level of support shown by the readers and fans from the Putnam and Dutchess County areas. The evening of the 25th will usher in a “Haunted Reception” at my favorite haunted tavern, Smalleys Inn, located on Glenieda Avenue in Carmel. The party starts at 8pm and goes to the witching hour, of course. I’ll be sure to include any ghost sightings in my next blog, so stay tuned to find out what happens!

Character & Plot Development

noreply@blogger.com (SterlingHouse Publisher, Inc.) — Tue, 31 May 2011 18:06:00 +0000

About two weeks ago I had the privilege of meeting with the Wesleyan Creative Writers Club to discuss character and plot development. One of the members was particularly interested in how I come up with my stories and characters. There is really only one good answer to that, and it is life. It is the ability to look at the world around me with the focus of a camera lens, storing settings, interactions, and the slightest of nuances away into the back of my mind for later retrieval. Little bits and pieces of the people I’ve encountered over my 40 plus years of living get melded together into unique and sometimes eccentric characters. The texture of the interactions that fill the pages of my novels reveals the patterns I’ve formally and informally studied for decades.

In many ways I’ve come to writing with a distinct advantage. As a former social worker and psychotherapist, I was an expert on people, families, and relationships, especially the dysfunctional kind. In my imagination, I revisit the common themes that would drive people into my office for help. Family secrets consistently undermine trust and security, while trauma and loss drive my fragile characters to a wide range of coping mechanisms, sometimes cementing them into life choices that corrode their fictional lives from the inside out. Their pasts drive their present and impact their futures. A perfect example of this is a character present in both of my books, Leila. Oh, be sure, it’s a dangerous and complex place to be a character in my head. They are certain to be plagued with insecurities and anxieties, and are prone to slipping into madness. But then there is the triumph of the spirit, the universal struggle toward survival. Out of the darkness of despair, my protagonists ignite the greatest spark, finding untapped psychological strength and tremendous will to overcome the challenges they are thrown up against. If you read either of my novels, you will recognize the exquisite battle Sara Miller has within herself as she comes to terms with her blossoming psychic abilities.

If I had traveled through my own life without asking “why,” my fictional world would not nearly be so multilayered and three dimensional. I think the wisest thing an aspiring writer can do is be a constant observer. A profound sense of wonder and curiosity is an absolute necessity.