Blog Dis
Upcoming Event
I hope to make an appearance at the Ottawa Romance Book Fair, when a date is officially announced for 2027. This is a one-day event held at the Conference Centre, so check back soon for updates.
I hope to make an appearance at the Ottawa Romance Book Fair, when a date is officially announced for 2027. This is a one-day event held at the Conference Centre, so check back soon for updates.
2025-01-28
In the month of January, the darkness sets into your bones and soul and drags you way down low, and this sinkhole spiral actually begins in November, when the clocks are pushed back, making it darker much earlier. So, by the time we enter January, I begin to look for the telltale marker that there's light at the end of the tunnel. Once it's still light out by 5 pm, there's a sigh of relief and we are renewed with hope, to get through the remaining two months of winter, February and March.
There's much about winter I love. It's quieter because snow acts as a natural blanket to muffle sounds vs summer where all manner of construction wreaks havoc on silence - the pounding, the jack-hammers, the noise of large vehicles backing up with their ever-present beeping to warn those behind them. I love too the cold because I sleep better, as I suspect many do as well. And there's skating the canal, if you live in Ottawa, which is an awesome way to get fresh air and exercise. But by the time I reach March 1st, I want every bloody scrap of snow to be gone, because it's simply just not right for there to be any number of centimeters of the white stuff on the ground! It's just not right, I tell you! Winter is most assuredly the worst oppressor at this time of year. I can see it in the eyes of people in the mornings when they walk to work, or scrape more snow off their windshield - that look of complete despair in having to deal with the routine of coats, boots, gloves, toque and scarf. We all want winter to come to an end, especially the chickadees. We all want the snow to be taken away, to go and not come back, to pave a new patch for clean streets.
The clocks will move ahead by one hour on Sunday, March 9th at 2:00 AM, to mark the beginning of daylight saving time. My father's old remembrance was Spring ahead and Fall behind and it gave me pause to think that if I had the power to spring ahead some aspects of my life, what would top my list? Well, and for starters, I'd spring ahead of my bills, which are not huge by any estimation but nonetheless it would be a grand thing to not have to consider creditors. I do not pay a mortgage or make regular car payments. I have one credit card that is kept under strict control, so it makes my life easier not having to be chased by creditors. My rent is automatically deducted from my bank account, as is payment to my Internet Service Provider, to include my investment deductions into two different banks - for if you're not paying yourself, over and above paying your bills, why then are you breaking your back five days a week? Just to pay bills? You need to get ahead. You need to plan your comfy space in your future life and this requires boatloads of money.
Additionally, I would spring ahead of my publishing plans and have my fan base working full-time in order that I could devote my sensitive sensibilities entirely to the art of creation. I would also spring ahead of any illness, accelerating my recovery so that a cold or flu would be over even before I noticed the symptoms. And I would most assuredly spring ahead of idiotic conversations that morph into arguments because you reach a stage in your life when you immediately recognize an idiot who gaslights for the sake of gaslighting, even if they haven't a clue what they're doing. Nowadays, and with our social networks, there's a good chance that the idiot you're arguing with is just a bot, but I'm often surprised when their arguments are just plunk stupid, without being routed in logic, rather than to engage you in meaningful discourse. Show me a man or a woman who likes to argue, and I'll show you a tumor growth on the side of my head from having to listen to illogic.
There is one useful purpose an argument has and this is to set the stage for awesome make-up sex.
While I think my silly thoughts and keyboard at a furious speed (because I'm blessed with nimble fingers and a typing speed of some 200 words per minute) I know that the Oppressor, I call winter, will eventually leave. Then I'll be mired in the sticky humidity of summer when sweat gathers between the girls and I feel my hips are holding too much moisture like camels' humps and I'll foolishly long again for the cool Fall, to be followed by the glorious arrival of winter and the cold.
I love winter in November and December, and yes even January and February. But March? I truly believe that Julius Caesar was murdered in the month of March because some bastard put a bee in the bonnet of Brutus after surviving a brutal winter campaign battling the frigid cold in another country, soaked in raw blood.
Winter is a beautiful landscape artist.
There's much about winter I love. It's quieter because snow acts as a natural blanket to muffle sounds vs summer where all manner of construction wreaks havoc on silence - the pounding, the jack-hammers, the noise of large vehicles backing up with their ever-present beeping to warn those behind them. I love too the cold because I sleep better, as I suspect many do as well. And there's skating the canal, if you live in Ottawa, which is an awesome way to get fresh air and exercise. But by the time I reach March 1st, I want every bloody scrap of snow to be gone, because it's simply just not right for there to be any number of centimeters of the white stuff on the ground! It's just not right, I tell you! Winter is most assuredly the worst oppressor at this time of year. I can see it in the eyes of people in the mornings when they walk to work, or scrape more snow off their windshield - that look of complete despair in having to deal with the routine of coats, boots, gloves, toque and scarf. We all want winter to come to an end, especially the chickadees. We all want the snow to be taken away, to go and not come back, to pave a new patch for clean streets.
The clocks will move ahead by one hour on Sunday, March 9th at 2:00 AM, to mark the beginning of daylight saving time. My father's old remembrance was Spring ahead and Fall behind and it gave me pause to think that if I had the power to spring ahead some aspects of my life, what would top my list? Well, and for starters, I'd spring ahead of my bills, which are not huge by any estimation but nonetheless it would be a grand thing to not have to consider creditors. I do not pay a mortgage or make regular car payments. I have one credit card that is kept under strict control, so it makes my life easier not having to be chased by creditors. My rent is automatically deducted from my bank account, as is payment to my Internet Service Provider, to include my investment deductions into two different banks - for if you're not paying yourself, over and above paying your bills, why then are you breaking your back five days a week? Just to pay bills? You need to get ahead. You need to plan your comfy space in your future life and this requires boatloads of money.
Additionally, I would spring ahead of my publishing plans and have my fan base working full-time in order that I could devote my sensitive sensibilities entirely to the art of creation. I would also spring ahead of any illness, accelerating my recovery so that a cold or flu would be over even before I noticed the symptoms. And I would most assuredly spring ahead of idiotic conversations that morph into arguments because you reach a stage in your life when you immediately recognize an idiot who gaslights for the sake of gaslighting, even if they haven't a clue what they're doing. Nowadays, and with our social networks, there's a good chance that the idiot you're arguing with is just a bot, but I'm often surprised when their arguments are just plunk stupid, without being routed in logic, rather than to engage you in meaningful discourse. Show me a man or a woman who likes to argue, and I'll show you a tumor growth on the side of my head from having to listen to illogic.
There is one useful purpose an argument has and this is to set the stage for awesome make-up sex.
While I think my silly thoughts and keyboard at a furious speed (because I'm blessed with nimble fingers and a typing speed of some 200 words per minute) I know that the Oppressor, I call winter, will eventually leave. Then I'll be mired in the sticky humidity of summer when sweat gathers between the girls and I feel my hips are holding too much moisture like camels' humps and I'll foolishly long again for the cool Fall, to be followed by the glorious arrival of winter and the cold.
I love winter in November and December, and yes even January and February. But March? I truly believe that Julius Caesar was murdered in the month of March because some bastard put a bee in the bonnet of Brutus after surviving a brutal winter campaign battling the frigid cold in another country, soaked in raw blood.
Winter is a beautiful landscape artist.
2025-01-27
To disappear with you, my darling,
would be like hiding inside your consoling arms,
and then to become your morning flesh
that I may return you to my morning flesh.
We shall then declare,
we are of one mind, an entirely new light,
that brings us to amazing.
And we shall languish, and waste our time,
leisurely, to camouflage ourselves in idleness.
We will cling to one another,
like heat compressed and undressed,
then disappear undercover.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
would be like hiding inside your consoling arms,
and then to become your morning flesh
that I may return you to my morning flesh.
We shall then declare,
we are of one mind, an entirely new light,
that brings us to amazing.
And we shall languish, and waste our time,
leisurely, to camouflage ourselves in idleness.
We will cling to one another,
like heat compressed and undressed,
then disappear undercover.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
2025-01-23
If you are afflicted with the brain disorder known as megalomania, then you are prone to delusions of grandeur. One could easily point the finger at persons like Mussolini and Hitler, Alexander the Great (to a degree, given that he conquered half the free world) and Genghis Khan and his son Kublai, to be sure, and yes Napoleon and numerous other dictators in civil-war ravaged countries. Our world appears to have no shortage of men wanting to spread their wings of power to control everything and everyone within their particular patch of grass but also any neighboring countries. It's like being held hostage by the male ego, which has lost all perspective, to consider the needs of others, and which only thinks of their needs, a form of tunnel vision that fuels their megalomania.
This is how I often feel, as a burgeoning desire swells in my belly, to grab hold of a pick-axe, wielding it like a mad woman at the big block bookstore chains, like Indigo books in Canada (formerly known as Chapters), and Coles, which is also owned by Indigo books, and Barnes and Nobel, some examples. These are brick and mortar bookstores that occupy large store space in a shopping mall, or as in the case of centre town in Ottawa, at a prominent corner. I've had interactions with some of these chains in the past, with regard to selling my series of six Crimson fantasy novels on consignment. Their consignment agreements are pretty much six and one half dozen of the other. The independent author is expected to deliver whatever quantity of books the store is willing to accept, and the store in turn asks that you sign a binding contract, understanding the store isn't responsible for the condition of books, if any are returned unsold, but those that are sold, the bookstore gets a 60 / 40 split, with them scooping up 40% of the book's sale price. All seems reasonable, right?
No. All is not reasonable, if you are the Indie author selling your novels. I've heard first-person accounts of Indie authors who've sold hundreds of their books on consignment with major chains, only to have to hire a lawyer afterward to receive their 60% cut from the cheap-ass, thieving major chain, who doesn't feel compelled to pay the Indie author. This is a despicable practice on the part of these bookstore chains, who take advantage of Indie authors. There are other first-person accounts too of major chains accepting shipments via courier from Indie authors who are expected to ship direct to their warehouse, to pay all expenses, only for the warehouse to state they never received shipment, despite the author having a proof of delivery from the courier company. I'm looking at you Barnes and Noble.
This is how the game is played with major bookstore chains - unfairly. If they had it within their power, they would shutdown every independent bookstore so that customers had only one place to physically browse in person, their bookstore, and theirs alone. Or, alternatively, a manager at a specific large chain outlet will reach out to an India author and offer them an opportunity to come and sell their novels in person, in their store, only for the author to sit there for eight hours and sell one book, while the manager will insist that the author is expected to promote their on-site reading on every social network, which is a wonderful way of promoting the major bookstore chain, rather than the author. The bookstore, by contrast, doesn't actively promote the indie author on their website. To use a contemporary expression, this method is called riding someone's coattails.
I've intentionally omitted including Amazon's online bookstore because this business platform isn't the same as brick and mortar. Whenever a customer buys a book online, they're given the opportunity to read a portion of the book, to entice them to want to buy the whole book, after which it'll ship direct to the customer's location. So over and above the customer paying for the full price of the book, they also shell out coin to ship to their address. This isn't a bad deal if you're not a physically mobile customer, or have ready access to major chains. If you're an Amazon Kindle Direct subscriber, then you can read the entire eBook for nothing, given that you pay your subscription. As to the indie author selling on Amazon KDP, the author's cut is comparable if they were to place a large order of quantities from a local digital printer, but the bonus of POD means you don't have to store boxes and boxes of books in your home. Print on Demand only prints when an order is placed. And when an indie author orders 'author copies' their price per unit cost, to include shipping, is more advantageous when it comes to selling their books in person at book fairs and exhibition events.
All to say, major brick and mortar bookstore chains behave like megalomaniacs, who'd happily close out the business of every independent bookstore, to replace it with their cookie-cutter bookstore that sells candles and doo-hickeys, along with bestsellers. However, I still occasionally enjoy browsing in some of these major bookstores but my heart and mind gravitates to independent bookstores instead.
If I was a megalomaniac, I'd band all the independent bookstores together and create a fissure as wide as the grand canyon in the book trade business whereby only Indie novels would be permitted to be sold by the independent booksellers, if they choose to do so. And, furthermore, the chain bookstores wouldn't be permitted to sell Indie novels, nor would they be allowed to have their books published by major trade publishers to rest on their shelves. Regardless, this is fantasy, which is what I believe is the foundation of every megalomaniac wanting to take over the world - the idea to take over the world begins as a fantasy and then sprouts, to grow into full-blown intent. It has to start somewhere.
The large chain bookstores aren't going anywhere. Last year, Indigo earned just over $1 Billion in Canada. Amazon eBooks and paperbacks earned in 2024 roughly $54 million, by comparison. Amazon KDP has worked hard to finesse their book publishing business in North America, and this includes their POD (Print-on-Demand) services so that their price-per-unit on each item is considerably less expensive for the Indie author than say placing an order with a digital printer whose costs are more expensive locally, unless the author can place a very large order to bring down the per unit cost.
But I repeat, this is just a fantasy, and one that I've been nurturing for years. I love being an Indie author and I wouldn't have it any other way because the control of my creation rests with me, rather than with a major publishing house. I set my deadlines, rather than to be pushed and cajoled by a major publishing house to deliver 'x' number of chapters according to their schedule, not mine. I'm willing, however, to submit my manuscript to the eyes of a highly critical principal editor, to include forensic hacking by a seasoned copy editor, as well as a proofreader and ARC's (advance copy readers).
So I guess on the one hand I, too, am behaving like a megalomaniac when it comes to the development of my fantasy stories, but on the other hand I'm not in a position to take over the world, unless my latest novel, POM: Portals of Middle-Vision were to catch fire with Amazon's KDP platform. 🤞🤞🤞
This is how I often feel, as a burgeoning desire swells in my belly, to grab hold of a pick-axe, wielding it like a mad woman at the big block bookstore chains, like Indigo books in Canada (formerly known as Chapters), and Coles, which is also owned by Indigo books, and Barnes and Nobel, some examples. These are brick and mortar bookstores that occupy large store space in a shopping mall, or as in the case of centre town in Ottawa, at a prominent corner. I've had interactions with some of these chains in the past, with regard to selling my series of six Crimson fantasy novels on consignment. Their consignment agreements are pretty much six and one half dozen of the other. The independent author is expected to deliver whatever quantity of books the store is willing to accept, and the store in turn asks that you sign a binding contract, understanding the store isn't responsible for the condition of books, if any are returned unsold, but those that are sold, the bookstore gets a 60 / 40 split, with them scooping up 40% of the book's sale price. All seems reasonable, right?
No. All is not reasonable, if you are the Indie author selling your novels. I've heard first-person accounts of Indie authors who've sold hundreds of their books on consignment with major chains, only to have to hire a lawyer afterward to receive their 60% cut from the cheap-ass, thieving major chain, who doesn't feel compelled to pay the Indie author. This is a despicable practice on the part of these bookstore chains, who take advantage of Indie authors. There are other first-person accounts too of major chains accepting shipments via courier from Indie authors who are expected to ship direct to their warehouse, to pay all expenses, only for the warehouse to state they never received shipment, despite the author having a proof of delivery from the courier company. I'm looking at you Barnes and Noble.
This is how the game is played with major bookstore chains - unfairly. If they had it within their power, they would shutdown every independent bookstore so that customers had only one place to physically browse in person, their bookstore, and theirs alone. Or, alternatively, a manager at a specific large chain outlet will reach out to an India author and offer them an opportunity to come and sell their novels in person, in their store, only for the author to sit there for eight hours and sell one book, while the manager will insist that the author is expected to promote their on-site reading on every social network, which is a wonderful way of promoting the major bookstore chain, rather than the author. The bookstore, by contrast, doesn't actively promote the indie author on their website. To use a contemporary expression, this method is called riding someone's coattails.
I've intentionally omitted including Amazon's online bookstore because this business platform isn't the same as brick and mortar. Whenever a customer buys a book online, they're given the opportunity to read a portion of the book, to entice them to want to buy the whole book, after which it'll ship direct to the customer's location. So over and above the customer paying for the full price of the book, they also shell out coin to ship to their address. This isn't a bad deal if you're not a physically mobile customer, or have ready access to major chains. If you're an Amazon Kindle Direct subscriber, then you can read the entire eBook for nothing, given that you pay your subscription. As to the indie author selling on Amazon KDP, the author's cut is comparable if they were to place a large order of quantities from a local digital printer, but the bonus of POD means you don't have to store boxes and boxes of books in your home. Print on Demand only prints when an order is placed. And when an indie author orders 'author copies' their price per unit cost, to include shipping, is more advantageous when it comes to selling their books in person at book fairs and exhibition events.
All to say, major brick and mortar bookstore chains behave like megalomaniacs, who'd happily close out the business of every independent bookstore, to replace it with their cookie-cutter bookstore that sells candles and doo-hickeys, along with bestsellers. However, I still occasionally enjoy browsing in some of these major bookstores but my heart and mind gravitates to independent bookstores instead.
If I was a megalomaniac, I'd band all the independent bookstores together and create a fissure as wide as the grand canyon in the book trade business whereby only Indie novels would be permitted to be sold by the independent booksellers, if they choose to do so. And, furthermore, the chain bookstores wouldn't be permitted to sell Indie novels, nor would they be allowed to have their books published by major trade publishers to rest on their shelves. Regardless, this is fantasy, which is what I believe is the foundation of every megalomaniac wanting to take over the world - the idea to take over the world begins as a fantasy and then sprouts, to grow into full-blown intent. It has to start somewhere.
The large chain bookstores aren't going anywhere. Last year, Indigo earned just over $1 Billion in Canada. Amazon eBooks and paperbacks earned in 2024 roughly $54 million, by comparison. Amazon KDP has worked hard to finesse their book publishing business in North America, and this includes their POD (Print-on-Demand) services so that their price-per-unit on each item is considerably less expensive for the Indie author than say placing an order with a digital printer whose costs are more expensive locally, unless the author can place a very large order to bring down the per unit cost.
But I repeat, this is just a fantasy, and one that I've been nurturing for years. I love being an Indie author and I wouldn't have it any other way because the control of my creation rests with me, rather than with a major publishing house. I set my deadlines, rather than to be pushed and cajoled by a major publishing house to deliver 'x' number of chapters according to their schedule, not mine. I'm willing, however, to submit my manuscript to the eyes of a highly critical principal editor, to include forensic hacking by a seasoned copy editor, as well as a proofreader and ARC's (advance copy readers).
So I guess on the one hand I, too, am behaving like a megalomaniac when it comes to the development of my fantasy stories, but on the other hand I'm not in a position to take over the world, unless my latest novel, POM: Portals of Middle-Vision were to catch fire with Amazon's KDP platform. 🤞🤞🤞
2025-01-21
News is the stuff of politics and politics is the stuff of people and people are the stuff of rebellion and rebellion is the by-product of necessity. We've all seen the ongoing developments in Afghanistan, how the Taliban continue to remove freedoms from Afghani women, one at a time. Following the removal of US troops from Afghanistan (Cdn peace-keeping troops too), it shouldn't come as a surprise that the Taliban and their assurances of 'respecting our women' were instantly revoked the minute they reclaimed control of Afghanistan.
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2025-01-20
Will you begin, shyly, at first?
letting me guide your hand
to my shoulder, sliding over
to my hot breast, oh yes.
Be a little hesitant, before kissing me,
and make me yearn,
to want you that much more,
when you remove your clothes.
Cover your face, in mild disgrace,
and then offer yourself.
To me, you are as easy-going,
as the darkness suspends the night sky.
And in the early morning hours,
I will find you again, crawl to you,
on all fours,
willing and passionate.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
letting me guide your hand
to my shoulder, sliding over
to my hot breast, oh yes.
Be a little hesitant, before kissing me,
and make me yearn,
to want you that much more,
when you remove your clothes.
Cover your face, in mild disgrace,
and then offer yourself.
To me, you are as easy-going,
as the darkness suspends the night sky.
And in the early morning hours,
I will find you again, crawl to you,
on all fours,
willing and passionate.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
2025-01-16
You'll find as I post that plenty of my ramblings will run off at the mouth on the subject of consciousness. I'm perennially on the look out for source-material to stimulate my creative mind, to this end.
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2025-01-14
It is my cherished desire each day to get through every bloody day without allowing stress to further stress me out. However, this foolish girl needs reminding from time to time that regardless of how I may think, act or feel, there'll be times when the Universe delivers to me an untoward surprise, a load of stress that I simply couldn't predict.
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2025-01-13
I hunt for a sign of him,
his flesh and blood, his heart of rose.
Nobody is as cherished as he,
who wants me by any means, I compose.
Tossing and churning, he arouses a flood
of drifting moons, crossing over my skies,
my muse is stirring alive.
I only need a quiet place with him,
where we can hide away,
in blessed disguise. There, he'll be found,
life an after-dinner treat
of bitter-sweet chocolate wrapped in gold.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
his flesh and blood, his heart of rose.
Nobody is as cherished as he,
who wants me by any means, I compose.
Tossing and churning, he arouses a flood
of drifting moons, crossing over my skies,
my muse is stirring alive.
I only need a quiet place with him,
where we can hide away,
in blessed disguise. There, he'll be found,
life an after-dinner treat
of bitter-sweet chocolate wrapped in gold.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
2025-01-09
Oh my! I was barely out of work-mode for eight days, counting the weekend in between, and during the time I must have put on at least six pounds, based on how my sit-ups and crunches felt this week, a belly like a boulder. 😱
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2025-01-07
An age old battle rages. My beloved city, Ottawa, is no different than other beloved cities - each would much rather that graffiti didn't exist, never had, never should - just why already? Councilors in Ottawa in years past had voted in favor of throwing a great deal of dollars to stop graffiti vandalism, to the tune of $2 million. Yet, the reality is that artists who cut their teeth on graffiti will not be deterred.
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2025-01-06
How do I love thee, my timeless classic?
I love thee as deep as the ocean is blue,
and as high as the clouds own the sky.
Surely, slowly, sacrilegious happiness,
I would travel to the ends of immortality
to spend time with you.
Time, thieving, trouble-making time,
like minutes of nervous fingers in vinegar,
tart, tangy and anxious, setting off,
on a quest to hold onto you.
Later, I awoke, and time no longer possessed
a moment for you. So promise me,
that you'll never tell me you love me.
Take the time, simply,
in space and place, and love me.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
I love thee as deep as the ocean is blue,
and as high as the clouds own the sky.
Surely, slowly, sacrilegious happiness,
I would travel to the ends of immortality
to spend time with you.
Time, thieving, trouble-making time,
like minutes of nervous fingers in vinegar,
tart, tangy and anxious, setting off,
on a quest to hold onto you.
Later, I awoke, and time no longer possessed
a moment for you. So promise me,
that you'll never tell me you love me.
Take the time, simply,
in space and place, and love me.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
2025-01-02
Any length of time spent is time spent well, according to those who measure the value of time, by measuring their time, and how it has been spent. I like to believe that I spend my time in meaningful ways but not all the time.
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